Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: This is a dark story, more so because of the way I’m addressing J’s emotional issues. I wanted to understand the psychology behind Lyle’s abuse of J and what it could do to him. Because of that reason, I chose not to go the easy way and let everything fall in place for him. This story is primarily about him, the healing of his soul and the rest of the characters are support cast if you will. I felt that Jarod and Miss Parker have survived the Centre and it’s dealings for thirty years and they’re not about to fall apart. Hope this brings some understanding to those who had questions.

Nightmares of reality

Unknown area

“They know.”

Lyle pinched the bridge of his nose gingerly. Everything was going so well.

“Mr Lyle, did you hear me?”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. Six hours maybe.”

The silence lengthened as Lyle debated his options, glancing at the pretender. “I want you to monitor the traffic on the server. I want to know when they log on again. Trace them and then release the dummy data we had set up.”

“Ok, but what about the chairman?”

“What about him?”

“Well, uhm, he wants to know where you are.”

“Lie.” On that note he closed the connection. He had thought that Gemini would not have had the guts to speak out. It seems he had underestimated his psychological assessment of the boy. It didn’t matter. It was something he will rectify.

What did matter was that his play time with Jarod on this location was drawing to a close now that his sister was on the way. If he had to guess, he would be almost hundred percent certain that the Major will be with her. Perfect.

A sinister smile played on his lips when he looked at Jarod. He dropped the phone in his bag and rummaged in the front. He had no idea how, but Jarod had missed the front pocket and consequently a potential clue to his captor’s identity.

He hefted the camera in his hand as thoughts of Red Rock brought a smile to his face. It still sent shivers down his spine when Jarod had begged him not to cut of his thumb. He considered the act briefly, imagining his sister’s face when she was greeted by Jarod’s limb and then shook his head, mentally berating himself. Now was not the time but later his plans would accommodate such fantasies.

He walked over to where the pretender was still kneeling, waiting for his captive to become aware of his presence. He watched Jarod’s face, noticing the slight pulling of jaw muscles as the pretender unconsciously tensed. Lyle reached out and grabbed Jarod by his hair, pulling the head backwards and to the side. The pretender’s face was now in full view of the last light that was still escaping the setting sun, showing off the dried blood that covered most of the exposed areas around the blindfold. He had to pull his captive’s head twice into position, the second time with a backhanded blow to his face before Jarod understood that he was to stay as positioned. Satisfied, Lyle ignored the uncomfortable grimace from Jarod as he took aim with the camera. He took no more than a dozen, each time propping the pretender into a position he wanted. Finally satisfied with the photo’s he ignored the pretender and started to order the images until he was satisfied. Taking the cut shirt that Jarod had worn for so briefly, he wrapped them in it and placed it by the fire pit.

Dousing the remaining flames with water and then sand, he hefted the backpack. Taking one last look, he made sure he left nothing behind that would indicate his next location.

J blinked in the bright light, shifting upwards against his pillows. He couldn’t believe it, he had actually fallen asleep. He looked at his mother and Dr Brown standing purposefully in the doorway and he frowned briefly before smoothing his face blank.

“What’s going on?”

Even as he asked it, his insides clenched for a brief moment, wondering if something had happened to Jarod. Swallowing his fear, he glanced out the window and noted the darkness that had descended. He turned his head back when his mother’s warm hand folded over his. She glanced at Dr Brown, waiting for the other man. J turned his gaze from his mother to the psychiatrist, waiting.

“J, what do say about going home?”

“Home?”

“It will be with some conditions. You will see me twice a day for the next week and I want you to continue to take the Valium. Your mother will give it to you just before you go to bed. I think it is in your best interest to be around some familiar surroundings.”

“Can I leave now, tonight?”

Dr Brown glanced at his watch and then at Margaret. He could see the eagerness in J’s face and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Well, it is a bit late but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Margaret, a word,” Brown said as he pulled her to one side, keeping an eye on J sitting quietly in the wheelchair. He made sure he had full eye contact, emphasising the seriousness of his next words, “I think J is up to something.”

“I agree. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Maybe we should keep him here for the night,” he suggested, not liking the odds with J at home. Margaret shook her head. “No. J will know that we have anticipated him. Don’t worry. If I have to chain him to his bed, he will stay put. I won’t give him a chance to disappear.”

“Are you sure?”

She smiled briefly, tiredly. Her answer laying in the unspoken gesture and Dr Brown let her go. He decided to have a chat with J tomorrow about how he saw the role of his family in his life. Maybe a solution could be found there.

“Mom, you don’t need to tuck me in. I’m too old.”

Margaret didn’t answer her son. She seated herself on the bed and absently ran her fingers through his hair, tucking a long strand that kept falling over his eyes away.

“I know what you’re planning.”

He kept his eyes averted and tucked at the duvet’s edge. “I’m not planning anything,” he replied sullenly. Margaret laughed and he looked up surprised.

“I’ve been a mother more years than you’ve been alive, J. Give me some credit at least.”

He didn’t know whether he should be angry or not at her response. Confused, he started speak and then stopped.

“J, we want to help but we can’t do that if you don’t allow us inside your life. Do you understand that?”

He nodded, knowing it was expected while he strengthened his decision to continue with his plans. She didn’t buy his silence or his acquisition. A soft hand settled on his cheek, turning his head so that he had no choice but to face her.

“Don’t do this. Let us fight this together, please.”

“You will never understand,” he whispered softly. “I’m not even real.”

Margaret took J’s hand and moved it onto his chest, just over his heart. “What do you feel?”

“Nothing,” he answered, trying to pull his hand from her grip. She didn’t let him, willing him with her whole being to understand. The silence lengthened until he couldn’t take it anymore and broke it harshly.

“What do you want from me?”

“The truth, J. I want to know what you feel.”

“Replicates don’t feel.”

“J, regardless of the way you came into this world, you are still a part of me and your father. Jarod has his own soul and you have yours. You might look alike but that is where it ends,” Margaret said, giving his hand a squeeze before placing it over his heart again, pushing down. She was determined that he will see. “What do you feel?”

J was afraid. The feelings inside him were confusing to say the least. He wanted to lash out at her and at the same time he wanted her to hold him in a tight hug and tell him that everything will be fine and that he’ll be able to go back to the way it was before Lyle. But he knew logically that it didn’t work that way. It made him angry and with no other direction he poured all of it out at his mother.

“Fine, if you so desperately want to know, why don’t you analyse how I felt when Lyle used me to play his sick games with that girl he tortured and murdered, making sure I took part in it. Where were you and dad and Jarod when he cut her up, when he…when he,” he closed his eyes tightly, willing the vivid images to go away and leave him alone. He felt the bile push upwards at the remembrance of blood and the smell of fear that pervaded the air. Her screams sounded in his ears, loud and pained. He heaved, trying to hold it in but it came in a rush that he couldn’t stop. The next instant his bin was pushed under his nose and a comforting hand was on his back, rubbing it in slow circles while he purged his body.

He wanted to ask her to stay when she stood up, not understanding why she was leaving. In his mind he thought he deserved this. He deserved his family’s rejection, he deserved the memories. Before these thoughts could settle long enough she was back with a cool cloth, wiping his mouth and face. Then a glass of water was pressed and he rinsed, spitting it into the bin.

“Thank you.”

For the second time that night he was surprised when he finally could face her again. She was crying. Thinking again that it was his fault for his words he started to apologise, not wanting the added guilt to know that he had made his mother cry. She stopped him by placing a finger on his lips.

“The day they took Jarod, they took away part of my soul. For months we searched for our son, hoping and praying that we would find him or that he would be returned and we would find him safely asleep in his bed. All kinds of scenarios will be running around in my head to what they could be doing to him, about how they could hurt him,” Margaret stopped, gazing at J but not really seeing him, her mind lost in her memories. “I felt guilty. I left the window open. I should have noticed the men before. I should have heard Jarod’s cries.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” J said softly, his eyes tearing in empathy for her. She smiled, nodded and then placed both her hands on J’s face, staring into his eyes.

“I know that now. It’s the same with what Lyle did to you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But.”

Margaret shook her head, holding his gaze, not allowing him to retreat into the safety net he had created. “No, J. Lyle manipulated you. You need to start looking towards a future. Miss Parker and your father will bring your brother back to us. We need to be ready here, to help them if necessary.”

“Don’t you understand? I should be out there, helping them find Jarod.”

“Why, because you feel the need for vengeance. To have a chance to kill Lyle.”

J jerked his head out of her hands, bringing his legs up and hugged them. “I thought my sessions with Dr Brown were private.”

Margaret wasn’t fazed by his attitude. Instead she shifted so that she sat next to him. He reluctantly allowed her to pull him into an embrace but kept his body stiff to let her know that he was still angry.

“Dr Brown has not discussed your sessions with us, J. It’s not very difficult to see you’re hatred for Lyle nor is it to see that if given the chance to kill him, you will. The reason why is because I had that same hatred inside me for a long time against the Centre.”

“Then you’ll understand…”

“J, I will not allow you to go down that path. Hatred leads to bitterness and bitterness will lead to death. You will never find fulfilment in life, my son if you don’t let go.”

J still leaned against her but a note of disbelief has crept into his voice when he said, “So just let Lyle get away with murder, kidnapping, torture and whatever else his done in his life.”

“Lyle will get his due.”

“When?” J questioned angrily. Margaret didn’t reply and the answer dawned on him. “Miss Parker won’t let him go, will she?” He turned, watching his mother’s face. She just kissed the top of his head, pulling him tighter.

“Well, I’m glad.”

Sadness came over her face. She gave him one more hug and rose. “It’s time for you to go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll talk further, ok.” She turned at the door, her hand on the switch when he called her back.

“Please stay till I’m asleep.”

She smiled and made her way back to him. He held onto her hand, placing it over his heart. His eyes closed and she stayed, watching her son sleep.

A distant crash sounded, intruding into his consciousness. J mumbled, turning over to go back to sleep. Another muffled sound reached him and he wondered what his mom was doing in the kitchen and whether he shouldn’t help her. One eye opened and seeing the time he decided to rise.

Fifteen minutes later he made his way down the stairs feeling refreshed and clean. He had another session with Dr Brown this morning and he was actually looking forward to it.

“Mom, you want some help,” he asked loudly. When she didn’t answer he frowned. She was probably outside feeding the chickens or something. “Mom?” he called again, stepping towards the kitchen and the open door.

What he hadn’t expected was a hand to snake around his neck and cover his mouth. His head was twisted to the side and upwards at an uncomfortable position. He could feel the person’s body tight against his, keeping him immobile. The grip was tight and he jerked his hands upwards to loosen it. His head was shifted another millimetre in warning and he relaxed, knowing that it would be easy for the person to snap his neck.

“Good boy.”

J stiffened. Lyle’s breath was hot on his ear and he could feel the man move against his back. He tried to swallow, his mouth dry.

“You told.”

The accusation was hard and emotionless, increasing his fear. He was dragged into the living room and he saw his mother. She had been tied to a chair and gagged. A bruise was forming on her cheek. Lying against one wall was his brother. He was similarly gagged, his eyes closed. Blood covered most of his face and he could see ugly bruises on his exposed chest and back. He was tightly bound hand and foot and he couldn’t tell if Jarod was alive or not.

“I had thought that we had an understanding.”

He couldn’t answer even if he had the ability too. His muscles were weak, his palms sweaty. He could smell the fear and this time it was his, not a girl about to be cut into pieces.

“Do you remember our deal, Gemini?”

Lyle relaxed his hand slightly and he managed a nod. He didn’t look at his mother, his concentration on the window and the wide open spaces. He was shutting down, building his defences. It didn’t take a genius to know what Lyle was going to do.

“Do you want to play?”

In answer he bit Lyle’s hand. The metallic taste of blood burst into his mouth and Lyle jerked his hand away with profanity. Using the opportunity, he turned swiftly and threw his first punch. It connected solidly and Lyle hunched over with a loud whoosh. He brought his knee up, desperate to end the fight, his mind on some distant plane already mapping out his next moves.

Lyle was more street smart. He somehow avoided his knee and pulled his other leg from underneath him. He went down hard, his back smarting. He rolled, avoiding Lyle’s kicks. He ended up next to the couch and using it, he lunged at Lyle, bringing them both to the ground. He managed another punch, this time to the side of Lyle’s face before the older man managed to turn him around.

Frantic, he tried to buck him from his body, his hand just managing to grab Lyle’s hands. Lyle twisted his wrist and J lost his grip. He tried to stop the descending fist and only partially succeeded. It glanced of his jaw and smashed into the floor. Lyle swore loudly and dug his knees into his ribs, bringing grunts of pain from J. He could hear his mother’s screams through the gag and it willed him to try even harder.

His hand went to Lyle’s crotch and he grabbed. Lyle’s face went red and then white and he stumbled from J, holding onto his stricken area. Breathing hard, J rose and sprinted for the other man. When he saw the flash it was too late to stop. His momentum toppled them to the ground and he lay still, not moving. Lyle shifted beneath him, shoving him off him and onto his back. A pained gasp left him and he could feel a cold wetness start to spread down his side. His vision dimmed and then focused again on the ceiling. Lyle’s face swam into view. A knee planted against his shoulder and then he screamed in agony when the knife was ripped callously from his side. His hands went immediately to the area, pinching and holding tight. He could feel his blood pumping out the wound, coating his fingers in it.

“That was not a smart move, Gemini.”

He didn’t answer. Lyle rose slowly and it was with perverse pleasure that he noted the slightly hunched stance of the other man. It didn’t last long. Lyle grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the one wall. He stumbled, trying to keep his footing. He somehow got his feet back under him, trying to ignore the stabbing agony in his side. He didn’t need to look to see the trail of blood he was leaving. He made an attempt to catch himself when he tossed to the floor but the effort was in vain and he landed roughly. Curling into a foetal position, he tried to staunch the bleed by keeping pressure on the wound. Lyle’s voice came from a great distance and he tried to concentrate but the words slipped past his understanding. Fingers curled into his hair, lifting his head. He opened his eyes, blinked. Lyle’s face materialised again.

“Can you hear me, Gemini?”

He managed a weak affirmative.

“Try that again and your mother will get the same punishment. Do you understand?”

He glanced past Lyle to where his mother was sitting. He could see the fear in her eyes. His gaze moved back to Lyle and he gave another affirmative. Apparently satisfied, Lyle let him go and moved with a slight limp towards the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later with an ice pack pressed against his front.

It was that moment when Jarod’s eyes opened.

“Anything?”

Major Charles shook his head, his eyes continually scanning the surrounding woodland. Stepping cautiously over a dead branch, he watched the clearing for any sign of movement. He watched as Miss Parker entered the clearing. Lyle didn’t step out from any of the trees and after a few minutes he joined her at the fire pit.

Miss Parker was busily unwrapping material what looked suspiciously like a shirt to him. She gasped when the photos fell out.

“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch so slow he’ll be begging me to end it,” she managed to utter through clenched teeth. One by one, they could see Jarod’s abuse. It almost seemed like Lyle had taken pleasure in taking the photos from every angle to get the full extent of his injuries.

“So where’s Lyle?”

“Now that is the million dollar question. I wonder if my brother had a forewarning that we were coming. From the photo’s it certainly looks like it.”

Her ringing phone interrupted his speculation on possible sites. She answered her usual greeting.

“How’s the mountain air treating you, Sis?”

“Where are you?”

“Here and there. Did you like the photos?”

“You’re sick, Lyle. What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I want payback for all Jarod’s meddling in my affairs.”

“You brought it on yourself.”

“No. All this is his fault. He will pay and so will his family.”

Lyle hung up, leaving Miss Parker with the phone still pressed against her ear. The hairs on the back of her head stood up and a feeling of dread settled over her. She didn’t look at Major Charles when she dialled the number for their home. The dial tone sounded in her ear and her suspicions was confirmed.

“He’s at your place.”

Major Charles said nothing. He turned around and ran for the road, hearing her footsteps right behind him. They were on the other side of the continent and he knew that even if everything worked out, they were still twelve hours away from getting there.

His first awareness was of pain. It soured around him, filled him till there was nothing left that didn’t ache, throb or burned. He remembers the prick and then the darkness that had descended. He could feel the softness of a carpet on his skin. He was somewhere inside a house. It took a moment later when he noticed that he could hear the harsh breathing of someone, the soft whimpers of someone else. Not hearing anything else, he opened his eyes.

“J?”

He could see his brother curled tight, his hand gripping his side. Jarod could see a trial of blood leading to his brother and concern flooded his senses. A pair of shoes entered his vision and he looked up. It was Lyle. Somehow he should have been surprised but he wasn’t.

“Hello Jarod.”

“What have you done with J?”

Lyle crouched at Jarod’s side and smiled evilly. “Let’s say a lesson in obedience that was sorely needed.”

Jarod pulled against his bonds, knowing it was useless. He looked at his brother, noting the sheen of sweat that covered his face, his pallor and the small breaths he was taking. Relaxing, he tried to reason with Lyle.

“Let me help him. If his wound is not looked after he could die.”

“You haven’t even said hi to your mother, Jarod. Where’s your manners.”

Jarod didn’t breathe. He looked around and had to turn slightly before he saw her. His face darkened in anger and he growled a warning to Lyle. His captor laughed and slapped him lightly in the face.

“Is that the thanks I get for allowing you your sight? Maybe I should return the blindfold.”

Jarod’s fists were clenched tight, his body tense. He took a deep breath and then apologised, knowing that it was what Lyle wanted to hear. He glanced at his mother again, trying to let her know that he was fine. Lyle grabbed him by the bicep, breaking his contact. From the subtle hints, he allowed Lyle to help him into a kneeling position.

Lyle’s gaze lingered over his injuries and Jarod didn’t like the way the man kept looking at J and his mother. Lyle took a knife from the table by one of the chairs and started to play with it.

“Please let me look at my brother?” Jarod pleaded softly, not taking his eyes of Lyle.

Lyle smiled slightly, his eyes thoughtful. “Everything in life has a price.”

Jarod pressed his lips together. He understood the game. “What do you want me to do?”

He wasn’t fooled for one minute by the innocent look on Lyle’s face when his captor said smoothly, “I want you to play a game.”

Jarod didn’t like the moan of protest that came from J or the look of horror on his mother’s face. “Not before I looked at my brother.”

“You’re in no position to demand anything, Jarod. All I want is a yes or no.”

Jarod looked at his brother again. “What are the rules?”

“It will be explained as we progress.”

Jarod gave a short bark of laughter. “No fair, Lyle. How do I know you won’t be making them up as we go along?”

Lyle’s eyes darkened. “Decide, yes or no?”

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Thank you to Julia for your reviews. This chapter is for you.

Forgiven

Russell Farm

“Decide, yes or no?”

Jarod glared at Lyle, shifting slightly. He glanced at J again, trying to weight his concern for his brother’s injury against Lyle’s demand. He could feel a muscle twitch in his jaw. He took a deep breath and before his mind had a chance to fully process what he was about to suggest, he said quietly, “Let them go and I will stay with you.”

He could hear his mother protest through the rag. He was watching Lyle, waiting for his words to sink in. Lyle stood up, his face a mask of indifference.

“Willingly?’

“Yes.”

A small smile showed fleetingly on Lyle’s face. He started towards J casually, the knife balanced in his hand.

“I don’t think I can trust you, Jarod.”

Desperation came through when he saw Lyle stop by J’s inert form. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Really? All I asked was a simple question and you have yet to answer it. So far you have not shown much cooperation.”

J made a small pained noise and then gasped, his face twisted in agony when Lyle pressed the toe of his shoe against his side.

“Don’t,” Jarod said, the word catching in his throat. “Leave him alone.”

Lyle increased the pressure. J made a garbled cry, strangling his scream. He curled tighter, his hands ineffectively trying to dislodge Lyle’s foot. White hot pain lanced through his side, spreading slowly outward, leaving him almost paralysed with it. Catching his breath, he tried to think. A small spasm jerked his muscles and then he started to tremble uncontrollably.

“Lyle, please.”

His brother’s voice came through distorted. The pressure on his side eased and then disappeared. He couldn’t decide which he preferred. With the foot gone, his side flared, almost pushing him over the edge. He could hear his brother’s defeated voice when he agreed to the game. He missed Lyle’s next words completely while he concentrated on not sliding over the edge to darkness and oblivion.

A hand grabbed his bicep and dragged him closer to where Jarod was still kneeling. He couldn’t help the cry when he was dropped unceremoniously in front of his brother. His eyes couldn’t focus. Time blurred and then strong hands wiped his damp hair from his forehead.

“J, can you hear me?”

He wanted to answer but he couldn’t. His throat was tight, making it more difficult to breath. “J, I want you to look at me, ok.” He tried to respond to the fear in his brother’s voice but his eyes just couldn’t register what he was seeing.

“It hurts…”

“I know, J. I want you to try and stay awake.”

He didn’t have the strength to nod. A hand gently coaxed his hands loose from the grip he had on his wound. He could feel his blood flow warm and sticky on his skin. He curled his fingers into the fibres of the carpet, tracing the texture. It was soft, almost silky. He noticed the traces of dark red that he left with each touch. His mother would be angry. He was messing up again. But still he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching it.

His muscles all tensed and a slight spasm assaulted his body when Jarod probed the area of his wound gently. His brother apologised and he didn’t acknowledge, closing his eyes tiredly. He didn’t want to fight anymore.

“J!”

His brother’s voice intruded. He opened his eyes, closed them again. “Tired,” he managed to utter, his words slurred. A hand slapped him lightly on his cheek. He opened his eyes again. He still couldn’t see anything.

“I want you to concentrate, J. You need to stay awake.”

His mouth was so dry that he couldn’t swallow. The reflex action brought further pain but he still managed to ask, “Why?”

Something warm splashed on his arm. Surprised, he shifted his gaze, trying to locate the source. His brother was crying. “S’ ok, I’ll try.” His brother nodded and he felt cool fingers against his wrist. He tried not to move but the shivers that now wracked his body didn’t make it any easier.

His brother will make it better. He trusted Jarod.

He wanted to be warm. He wanted to wake up where everything will be back to normal. He still has homework to do.

He didn’t want to die.

“Cold.”

Jarod could barely hear the softly whispered word. He felt helpless. Lyle seemed to enjoy watching him as J’s life was slowly slipping through his fingers. His fingers were coated in blood where he had been pressing against J’s wound. Oh God, he was losing him.

“How badly do you want to save your brother?”

“I’ll do anything,” Jarod answered, his voice raw with emotion.

Lyle smiled slowly. “The price for your brother’s life is Sydney. Will you be able to kill your surrogate father for your brother’s sake?”

“You’re sick. How can you ask me that?”

“Rule one. Never answer a question with another question. Next time, your mother loses a thumb. Now answer my question.”

“I don’t think J will survive long enough for me to kill Sydney.” He purposefully distanced himself. He needed to find an opportunity to get Lyle close enough. He needed to get them out of this situation.

“Sydney’s your choice?”

He kept Lyle’s gaze, didn’t break contact when he said, “Yes.”

Lyle stayed silent, scrutinising him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. His captor reached a decision and stepped behind them. He glanced behind him, his fear increasing ten fold when the sociopath stooped by his mother and swiftly cut her loose. Lyle ordered her to get the first aid kit, warning her that her sons would be punished if she tried anything. She came back a few moments later, kneeling by J and giving the kit to Jarod.

“I need boiled water, soap and towels,” J said, glancing at his mom before looking to Lyle for permission. His captor indicated to his mother that she could fetch it, leaning against a chair where he could watch them without obstruction.

When she was back, Jarod proceeded to wash his hands and arms thoroughly with the water and soap. Finally satisfied, he softly apologised to J when he tore the shirt away from his wound, leaving the whole area exposed.

“Mom, I need you to clean the area for me with water and then alcohol.”

While his mom left J’s side to fetch some whiskey from the drinks cabinet, he set out the medical kit, trying to determine what he had to work with. It wasn’t much but it will have to do. There was no way that Lyle will allow J to go to a hospital. He had to do the best he could with the supplies he had.

When the area was clean, he placed a towel behind J and gently turned him onto his back. J’s breathing was fast and shallow, his eyes open and staring at Jarod.

“J, I’m sorry but this is going to hurt.”

“My fault.”

Jarod leaned closer, ignoring Lyle’s warning scowl. “It’s not. You need to fight. For mom and dad. For me.”

J shook his head slightly. “I…I was the one…who told Lyle.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Jarod was surprised when J grabbed his arm, pulling him closer. He could see J crying silently, the tears flowing freely. “Please…forgive me.”

“I love you J. You’re my family, a part of me. How can I not forgive you?”

He felt strength growing inside. Jarod had forgiven him and like a forest fire, it had burned him clean.

“I’m scared.”

Jarod bent over J’s wound. His mom gripped J’s one hand, her other shining the flashlight on the wound. “It will be all right, J. Just be strong,” his mother whispered to him. He tried not to flinch when Jarod gently opened the cut. He felt something cold slide into his side and he gasped slightly, not drawing another breath.

“J, you’re still with us.”

He squeezed his mom’s hand in answer. The next probe felt like liquid fire and he screamed. He could feel Jarod stop and his hand tightened painfully on his mother’s. Jarod started again when he nodded and he choked back his next cry and he wished he could just pass out.

The cold slid out of his side, became warm. J turned his head sideways, towards the door. An image wavered there, almost ghostly. He could feel himself sliding away and it wasn’t all that unpleasant. The image became easier to define until it coalesced into something tangible that he could see. He wasn’t aware of Jarod’s voice calling to him or his mother’s hand in his. He whispered, “Miss Parker?” then he sighed and everything went silent and numb.

Grimly, Major Charles swung the wheel as he avoided another pothole. He glanced at Miss Parker. She had the phone against her ear, talking rapidly to Broots. They were trying to organise a plane at a small airfield that was still another hour away.

“And?”

“He will let me know about the plane. Sydney’s still in ICU, still in a coma. They don’t know if he’ll wake up. Emily will stay with him.”

Charles nodded, skidding around a hair pin drive and barely keeping them on the road.

“How could we not see this coming?”

He was angry at himself for not predicting Lyle’s actions. Miss Parker lips tightened perceptively but she didn’t answer. They had all made mistakes. They had underestimated Lyle and she had only herself to blame.

She didn’t know if she could ever forgive herself if anything happened to Jarod or his family. If she could live with that knowledge.

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Alysa: Thanks. Your review definitely made me warm and fuzzy inside.

Choices

Russell Farm

“Hi.”

The woman smiled. Her eyes were soft and warm and he liked it. Her hair curled around her, cascading down her back. She reached out a hand and it was warm when it touched him.

“Hello J.”

“You look like her.”

She continued to smile and he felt safe and warm and without pain. He watched intently as she took a step closer. The air around her wavered and then settled again. It was almost like he was watching the heat waves distort the air on a hot summer’s day.

“Are you real?”

“For now. Turn around.”

He obeyed, not questioning. The living room was still there, just slightly distorted. He could see his body lying between his brother and mother. His eyes were closed, his skin sallow. Blood coated his side where Lyle had knifed him. He broke his gaze, looking at his own side and finding his skin unblemished. He looked back to the scene, watching as his mother filled his lungs with air. He saw his chest rise with the forced breath and then his brother placed his hands over his sternum, pushing down, counting. Five reps and then his mother’s turn again.

He looked towards Lyle and all he saw was a darkness that surrounded the man. His captor was watching the scene with interest, his gaze almost predatory. When she said his name, he turned and looked at her and felt at peace again.

“Is this a dream?”

“If you want.”

He glanced at the scene again. His brother was saying something to his body but he couldn’t make out the words. Somehow it didn’t matter so much.

“I wanted to tell him that I’m sorry for all my hatred.” He turned away, looking at her fully. “That I’ve forgiven him for what had happened to me at Donoterase.”

“He’ll understand.”

He took a step away from the scene and stopped. He turned back again. “How long do I have?”

“Not long.”

She held out her hand, inviting. He took it, felt it fold around his. His brother wiped at his eyes before continuing with the compressions. Lyle stepped towards the scene. The darkness followed him, curling around his body like a blanket. J didn’t want to leave.

“They need me.”

“Do you want to go back to the pain and hurt?”

He was silent as his thoughts turned inwards. He could see the road stretch out before him, his choice. One led to peace where he didn’t need to fight anymore, where he wouldn’t hurt anymore. The other was dark and uncertain. Did he want to continue?

“They need me.”

“Are you sure? I cannot protect you from Lyle if you go back.”

He smiled briefly and said, “I understand. This is my choice.”

She nodded and bent down, kissing him softly on his forehead. It felt soothing and he wasn’t afraid. “Go in peace, J.”

He watched her disappear. He gave her a last wave and then felt something tug at his consciousness. Gray surrounded him and then he felt the floor against this back. His body exhaled air when his brother pushed against his chest, the compressions almost at the end of the cycle.

Then he took his first breath in what felt like a lifetime. He sucked in the air in a great wheezing whistle, arching his back as the pain returned full force. Calm hands pushed him down and he started to cough. Each wracking spasm contracted and expanded his muscles and with it his knife wound. He had never known pain like that and for a brief moment he wondered if he had made the wrong choice.

“Come on J, deep breaths.”

His brother’s voice brought him back as he tried to follow the softly whispered words. The coughing finally ended and he didn’t move, absorbing the waves of intense throbbing that emanated from his side. A hand was softly stroking his. It had a calming effect and he felt himself slowly relax. He heard a voice singing softly a lullaby and he smiled inwardly. He wasn’t a kid anymore and yet the song was blanketing the pain until the intense ache subsided to bearable.

He finally managed to open his eyes.

“Welcome back.”

He looked at the grief ravaged face of his brother. He could trace each path the tears had tracked on Jarod’s face. His brother’s eyes were still moist and they were dark with emotion. He tried to say he was sorry but his voice wasn’t working. He shifted his head slightly, seeing Lyle looming over his mother.

“J, do you want some water?”

He wanted to say please but in the end just nodded, his mouth so dry he wondered if he would ever be able to parch his thirst. His mom left and returned a moment later. Jarod helped him lift his head and he took a small sip, feeling the coolness fill his mouth.

This time he managed to thank them. He wanted to sleep but he fought against the heaviness that pulled his lids down.

“Lyle, he needs a hospital. He needs professional care. Please.”

His brother’s voice was full of desperation and fear. He could almost hear the glee in Lyle’s voice when their captor denied Jarod.

“I trust you.”

He didn’t know why he said it but Jarod jerked, staring down at him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t turn away while he tried to convey his love for his brother in that one moment.

“I don’t know if I can do this, J. I…,” his brother swallowed and then as if remembering his mom continued, “…we might lose you.”

He smiled even though it was painful. “It’s ok. I trust you.”

Ever so slightly Jarod returned his smile and the faith he was putting in him. “This will hurt.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

There was nothing more to say. They both understood what needed to be done.

“He’s stable for now,” Jarod said, leaning back and wiping his eyes tiredly.

Lyle glanced at his watch. “Good. Then he can be moved.”

Jarod rose swiftly, angrily. He ignored the gun Lyle suddenly extracted from somewhere and had pointed at him.

“I just spent the better part of an hour to get him to this point. To move J now could mean his death.”

“He trusts you,” Lyle replied mockingly, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to get him into the van.”

Jarod lunged at Lyle, his anger overcoming his common sense. He was prepared to choke Lyle’s life from his body, even if he had to do it with a bullet in him. Lyle easily sidestepped him and then pistol whipped him. He dropped to his knees and then his hands, bracing himself. He heard a small cry from his mother and he tried to rise. He dropped back to his knees, his head swimming.

“Just leave my family alone, Lyle. This is between us.”

“Oh no, Jarod. It doesn’t work that way. Your family stays with me.”

He stood more slowly and this time he managed to keep his equilibrium. Lyle had a painful grip on his mom’s wrist, his gun aimed at her temple.

“Do you want to try that again?”

He looked at his mom’s frightened gaze and managed to choke out, “No.”

“Good,” Lyle lowered the gun and then flung Margaret at Jarod. “You have a choice, Jarod.” Lyle said suavely. He pointed his gun at J’s outstretched body and continued, “Take Gemini to the van or…” he didn’t finish the statement, instead leaving it open, knowing that Jarod will fill in the blanks.

Lyle moved backwards as Jarod stooped besides J. He squeezed J’s shoulder while he slid his fingers along his brother’s wrist and felt for a pulse. It was steady but weak. “J, wake up,” Jarod encouraged with a soft whisper. J’s eyes remained tightly closed and Jarod touched his face. J’s head rolled to the side but otherwise didn’t respond. Jarod didn’t need to look at Lyle to know that their captor was getting impatient.

“J, I need to move you.”

“I don’t think I can walk,” J mumbled weakly.

“It’s ok. You can lean on me,” Jarod offered, helping his brother to sit. J couldn’t suppress the cry when he rose. He hunched, grabbing for his side. His brother’s arm snaked around his back, holding him tight against his own body.

“I don’t think I can do this. It hurts.”

“We’ll take it one step at a time.” Jarod grunted, his broken rib protesting as he took more of J’s weight. His brother was telling the truth. He was barely responsive. They stumbled towards the door and out. J’s breathing was harsh and too fast when they finally reached a nondescript delivery van. Lyle opened the back doors and Jarod help his brother inside, settling him on the floor. J was barely lucid. Jarod knelt by his side and touched his cheek. It was abnormally warm.

His mother climbed in, sitting on the other side of J. The doors closed and they were left in darkness, the only sound J’s laboured breathing.

“What do we do now?” Margaret asked when the van started moving.

“Mom, if you have a chance to escape, I want you to take it.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she argued firmly. “J needs both of us.”

“I can look after him. If you escape, it’s one less person I need to worry about,” Jarod said firmly, wanting her to see the logic. “I need you to make sure that Sydney is safe where Lyle can’t get to him.”

She didn’t reply, knowing that Jarod is right but she also knew that even if she did manage to escape, that Lyle will make Jarod pay for it. Her heart was being torn in two, the decision a hard one she had to make now. When an opportunity came, she wouldn’t have the luxury of hesitation that would come if she hasn’t made her mind up all ready.

“You would have a better chance of evading Lyle. You’ll be able to out-think him.”

“It wouldn’t work, Mom. J needs medical attention and I can give that to him. You have to do it,” Jarod said while he extended his hand, touching the panel. He traced the outline, finding the seam of the door. He sighed in frustration when he found no door handle. It had been too much to hope for anyway. Making sure he had contact with J, he leaned against the panel and closed his eyes, trying to think.

“When we stop, I’ll try and distract Lyle. I want you to run. Even if I manage to overpower him, I still want you to run. Don’t stop and don’t look back.”

“Jarod, don’t do this. He’s unstable. You have no idea what he’ll do if you don’t…”

“He’s going to torture you and then kill you in front of me. I’d rather not witness that.” He was surprised that his voice was steady when he said that. His emotions were flat, his inner turmoil kept carefully balanced.

“You don’t know that?”

Jarod was glad for the darkness. It kept everything hidden. The hopelessness he felt. The defeat that he couldn’t hide. The knowledge that Lyle was in control. That with J’s injury he was hobbled in his decisions and choices. He could no more leave his brother alone with Lyle then kill his brother. The outcome would be the same.

“He told me in great detail what he’s going to do to you and dad and…,” he had to swallow, keep his hold on his emotions tighter, “…miss Parker. Someone needs to let them know.”

“Don’t ask this of me, please. I can’t lose you and J again.”

“There’s no other way and you know it, Mom. Think about it. If Lyle can’t find you, he can’t use you against me. He’ll leave. You’ll be safe.”

“But you won’t be.”

“I’ve survived the Centre for thirty years. I’ll find a way for me and J to survive Lyle. We’ll escape, when J’s stronger or when there’s an opportunity for me to take on Lyle and win. Please don’t let me beg.”

The silence that followed after Jarod’s last words were heavy and it settled slowly between them. He waited, feeling the slight shudder when they left the tar road.

“Ok”

That was the last word spoken and nothing more was said between them for the rest of the drive.

“They’re gone. We’re too late.”

She didn’t answer. They had entered the house cautiously, guns extended. Now they stood in the centre of the living room, trying not to look at the blood. There was too much blood to be healthy. They didn’t want to speculate on whose it was.

“Why is Lyle doing this?”

She didn’t answer the question. It was rhetoric. Lyle wanted payback, beyond that it didn’t have to make sense. She walked out the house, staring at the distant mountains. They were both tired, stretched to their limits. They had slept no more than an hour in the past twenty four hours. Her eyes were grainy, red and she knew without a doubt that if they didn’t rest, mistakes will be made.

“Where do you think he’s taken them?”

She rubbed the back of her neck tiredly, closing her eyes briefly. “I don’t think Lyle will go too far. This is a game and he wants us to play.”

“So do we wait till he contacts you again? We have no idea where he’ll take them.”

“I don’t know. Someone’s hurt.”

She didn’t say more, didn’t want to think that it could be Jarod’s blood drying inside. Major Charles turned and walked away and she didn’t follow, knowing he needed the time to be alone and think. Her phone rang and she looked at the caller id first before answering it.

“The Centre knows where we are.”

“Are you hundred percent certain, Broots?”

Dumb question. She didn’t reiterate, instead waited for his stumbling answer. “Y…yes. They’re sending three teams. ETA is four hours.”

What was her brother playing at? Why would he let the Centre know where they were? He was putting his own life in jeopardy and she had never known him to take risks like that without some reward.

“Broots, I want you to double check. See if you still have some friends left down in communications.”

“Ok, but it might take time. What are we going to do with Sydney if it’s true?”

“We’ll worry about it when the time comes.”

The moment he heard the key in the lock, Jarod prepared himself. The light had barely become a slid when he jack knifed his legs against the door. He heard a crunch and then a thud. He stopped the swinging door with his hand, blinking against the light. Lyle was already moving from his position on the ground, a gun in one hand. He didn’t wait but lunged himself forwards.

“Mom, now!”

He didn’t have time to even glance backwards to see if his mother was running. All his attention was on the writhing body beneath him and trying to keep Lyle’s gun hand busy. Lyle anticipated his move and shifted, jabbing upwards with his other hand. He managed to keep the scream bottled against the agony that now flared in his ribs.

Wasting no time in dealing with the pain, he kept hold of Lyle’s wrist. He was weak from the past few days. Jarod was fighting using solely instinct now. There was more at stake then just his life. Another punch to his ribs left him gasping for air and seeing stars.

“Give up, Jarod. You won’t win,” Lyle grunted. Jarod didn’t answer. His fingers were slipping on Lyle’s wrist, his strength almost gone. Taking a risk, he let one hand go.

Lyle grinned, tearing his gun hand free from Jarod’s remaining grip. He was bringing the weapon around, to push it into Jarod’s side when a fist came out of no-where and send him straight towards darkness.

Jarod breathed hard, slumping down over Lyle’s motionless form. Sweat was dripping down his face and the raw pain from his side nearly crippled him. Aware of time, aware of where he was, he pushed against Lyle and took the gun. He pointed it at Lyle’s head, his finger tightening on the trigger.

“Jarod?”

J’s voice was soft and weak. He turned his head, watching his brother slowly pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Will it be worth it…in the end?”

Jarod said nothing, the handle of the gun feeling rough against his skin. One bullet will end this nightmare for them. He had the power to end it.

“Jar?”

His brother had only used his name in that way once or twice. It brought pause to what he was preparing to do. He remembers Damon and how it had felt afterwards. There was better ways of dealing with Lyle.

“Why don’t we get out of here, J? Let the police handle Lyle.”

Making sure the safety was on; he slipped it in his waist belt. He ruffled Lyle’s clothes, finally finding the keys to the van.

He had to lean against the side of the van to keep himself from falling. He made it to the front and got in behind the wheel, inserting the key. Out of habit his eyes drifted to the gas meter and when he finally registered the reading he slumped over the wheel. Lyle must have been driving on air for the last few miles. There was no way that he would make it past the first mile before coming to a dead halt.

Lyle was still unconscious when he made it to the back of the van again. Turning the man on his stomach, he used his jacket to tie his hands. It wouldn’t hold for long but it would buy time. A slight bulge in Lyle’s top pocket caught his eyes. It was a cell phone and he flipped it open to be greeted by a mechanical voice stating that the signal was out of reach.

He’s head dropped. How could his luck be that bad? Gathering his remaining strength, he stood and went over to the back of the van.

“We need to walk.”

Margaret had no idea where she was. They were somewhere on the outskirts of a deserted town. The warehouse she had left had been a standalone. Huge open areas covered all sides and she had run for the nearest cover. She had stumbled on a service road and decided to take it, going towards where she could see broken down buildings. Her only hope was that she’d find a pay phone that would still be working.

She hated leaving Jarod and J. She wanted to turn back, make sure that they were ok but she didn’t. She was their hope. She needed to find help.

Her stubbornness set in and she continued her awkward jog.

It took Lyle the better part of an hour before he managed to loosen his hands. He ignored his throbbing head and nose. The door had impacted on his nose, breaking it again. He could feel the bone grate slightly when he touched it and his eyes darkened.

Jarod and his brother couldn’t have gotten that far. Gemini was seriously injured, in need of medical care. He doubted that the boy could walk without aide. Jarod was not that far off medical attention either.

He stood, stared at the ground and then smiled. It wasn’t going to be that hard to find them for as far as he could follow with his eyes, small splatters of blood made a straight line for the door. Gemini was bleeding and both pretenders were either too injured to notice or had failed to stem the boy’s bleeding.

He opened the cubby hole of the van and his fingers curled around the handle of his knife.

The hunt was on.

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Thank you for all the reviews. Uhm, not a lot of reviews…does that mean I should stop or…

Escape and Rescue

Unknown area

J’s body was screaming for a stop, for any kind of relief from the mind numbing pain in his side. But that was not possible, not with Lyle behind them. He still doesn’t know why he had stopped Jarod from killing Lyle. It had been something he had dreamed about for a long while now. Something he had came to savour every time he had woken from a nightmare of that day in the warehouse. And he had actually told Jarod not to pull the trigger in so many words.

He wished his brother had not listened. If only…but now was not the time to dwell on what could have been. They had to look towards the future, towards freedom and a life without fear.

“You still with me?”

Jarod’s words interrupted his thoughts and his concentration slipped. He faltered, his feet tangling. Jarod’s grip kept him upright but his near fall pulled his side muscles and pain roared through him in waves of fire. He made no sound as he pushed the pain to the back of his mind. Mr. Raines had always taught him to move past his own discomforts.

“I’m ok,” he managed to choke out; ignoring the incredulous look his brother gave him. “Really.”

His brother gave him another -yeah right- look before letting it go. They continued on in silence, trying to put as much distance between them and Lyle as possible before the other man woke.

“Do you think Mom is ok?”

He hadn’t meant to ask but he needed the assurance even if it was a lie.

“I hope so,” Jarod’s answered quietly. “You want to rest?”

J shook his head. He didn’t think he’d have the strength to get up again if he lay down. They stopped when their feet stepped onto a service road that was covered in weed and debris. Jarod looked left and right before turning towards where he could see buildings not to far away.

“We should be safe there. I can make it difficult for Lyle to find us until help arrives.”

“How will…they know…where to find…us?” He was finding it more difficult to breath. He felt feverish and the pain was starting to creep up on him. He tried to banish it back to the dark recesses of his mind and failed.

“They will,” Jarod said distractedly, his gaze on the buildings. J didn’t point out the flaws in the answers. They were in an unknown town that looked seemingly deserted with a psychopath probably all ready on their trail. Belay that, a very pissed of psychopath bent on creating new horrors in their minds.

He wondered what he would do if Lyle managed to find them. Somehow he thought sorry just wouldn’t cut it.

“Stop it.”

J looked at Jarod in surprise to find his brother’s concerned gaze on him.

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t.”

“Why? What…happens…if he finds…us? What…do we do…then?”

Jarod stopped and turned so that he could face J. He didn’t like the feverish glint in his brother’s eyes. His skin was too hot and dry to the touch.

“I’ll keep you safe, J. Please, believe me. I’ll keep you safe.”

J smiled and felt his lips crack. “You can…barely stand.”

Jarod chuckled. “Well, you’re not much better.” Jarod turned back to his brother’s side and they continued their trek.

“We’re two geniuses. I’m sure between us we can come up with a plan of staying out of Lyle’s clutches.”

Margaret felt her heart lurch when she finally noticed the cut phone line. Dropping the handle back on the handset, she turned and slowly slid down the wall. She had located two pay phones, both irreparable. She felt hopeless.

What if she couldn’t find help?

She had survived so long in the Centre’s shadow that it had now all become too much. Her heart was breaking. She had no idea whether her sons were safe and she could only imagine what Lyle would do to them. She felt tears form and slide silently down her cheeks.

She was so tired of fighting.

She finally wiped away the tears and slowly rose. Determination reset itself in her heart, keeping the pieces glued together. For her sons. She’ll keep on fighting for her sons.

Her eyes set on the next building and finding a phone. She had too. She was their hope.

The dull buzzing in her ears didn’t want to go away. She tried to ignore it. Blessed silence cut the sound off and she sank back into the darkness of oblivion. It didn’t last. The buzzing sounded again. Irritated, she turned and woke abruptly when the solidness that had been underneath her, disappeared.

“What…”

Her eyes opened and she gazed with confusion at the wall. Her headache had not improved. She managed to put a steady hand on the chair she had fell asleep on and pushed herself to her knees. The buzzing sound finally registered as the shrill ring of her phone. She groaned when she looked at her watch.

She had slept no more than an hour and she could feel it. Her body was sluggish to respond and sleep clouded her mind. Wiping a hand across her face, she rose and made her way to the sink. Splashing cold water on her, she felt a little better. Enough to realise that her phone was still ringing.

“What?”

The answer lacked venom. She was too tired to make it into anything more than a greeting.

“Miss Parker, it’s me. Broots.”

It spoke volumes that she made no snide remark to his greeting. Her silence must have unnerved the tech, for he stammered through his next words. “The…the centre is really on th…their way.”

Damn her brother and his idiotic brain schemes.

“Do they know about us?”

“Lyle’s made a deal. H..he gets Jarod and we are…”

“Don’t bother continuing, Broots. I get the picture.” She didn’t have strength to deal with the Centre as well. She ignored the pounding in her head.

“Broots, meet us at the hospital. Get transfer papers for Sydney and an ambulance.”

“H…how…”

“You’re the computer genius. Figure it out.”

She cut him off. They didn’t have time anymore. She had to wake the major and then they had to make sure Sydney was safe before they can even think of looking for Jarod and the rest.

Damn her brother.

They made it to one of the buildings when J felt his chest constrict. He tried to take another breath and it didn’t come any easier than the previous one. Something was seriously wrong.

As J continued to lean on his brother, he tried to clear his mind. He could feel a strange coldness spread from his wound outwards. He knew his own body well enough to know that something had come loose inside. He reached out with his hand and touched something wet. When he withdrew his hand, his palm was crimson.

“J, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he managed to say, pushing his hand down his leg, away from Jarod’s gaze.

Jarod’s lips became thin lines as he pressed it together but he didn’t reply as they entered an apartment.

“Let me look.” His voice left no voice for argument and J allowed him to gently lower him to the floor. He closed his eyes in thankfulness when his trembling legs were finally allowed some respite even if it was only for a little while.

He could feel his strength fading as Jarod lifted the bandage. He heard his brother swear and blinked his eyes open in surprise.

“Is it that…bad?”

His brother avoided his gaze. He closed his eyes again. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep them open.

“J, I…I need to leave you here. Just for a few minutes.” He could hear the anguish in his brother’s voice but I found that he had no strength left to answer. As he slipped further into delirium, he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly.

“J, you need to stay awake.”

That’s funny, he though. All Jarod wants is for him to stay awake. He saw the air waver and once again he could see himself and his brother. He didn’t bother turning around when he felt her presence.

“I need just a little more time.”

“There’s not a lot left,” she said softly, sadly. He nodded, knowing that she was right.

“He needs me.”

His words echoed his previous one and he wondered if that would be enough. To be needed. Soft hands settled gently on his shoulders and he turned and buried his face in her chest. Sorrow welled up and he cried his regrets and loss into her shoulder until he was done.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know why he apologised but it felt good to do it.

She smiled a soft, sad smile. “It’s ok, J. Be strong.”

He sniffled and wiped his nose on his shirt.

“I’m proud of you.”

He looked up and saw her smile. “Why?”

“For not allowing Jarod to pull the trigger. It would have hurt him deep inside if he had.”

“I wished he had.”

“I know J but you still stopped him.”

“Who’s going to stop Lyle?”

She leaned in and pulled him closer so that he once again felt her peace. She spoke into his hair, “Don’t worry about Lyle.”

It wasn’t really an answer but it was enough.

Jarod tried to keep the panic at bay and failed miserably. He was frantically searching the rooms, trying to find any supplies that might help him deal with J’s wound. He was bleeding internally and he needed to re-stitch the wound. Tears were running unchecked down his face and he wiped at them now and again.

He finally broke down in some bathroom when he located a first aid kit. The sobs tore from his body in big gasps as he allowed the fear for his brother to surface. He had no idea if he could bring him back. If he could save him this time.

Why didn’t he stay by the van? He shouldn’t have left, should have watched Lyle. But he knew that if Lyle had a partner they would have been in even more danger. Spent, he pulled the first aid kit close to his chest and held it tight, almost hugging it. His own broken ribs protested but he ignored them as he made his way towards his brother. The loss of emotion had helped and he felt more awake and clear than he had in days.

He took a deep breath of relief when he knelt by his brother and felt a pulse. It was weak and erratic but it was there. The first aid kit he had found was better equipped than the one he had at his parent’s house. He cleaned the area quickly and then cut away the remaining stitches that had not torn. J whimpered softly when he parted the flesh to get a look inside.

Jarod apologised softly and then tuned everything out as he bent over his brother and hoped his skills were enough to pull J through this time.

“Dr Brown, I know you’re a head shrink but I need to know if you’ll be able to take care of Sydney when we leave.”

“Why the haste, Miss Parker?” he asked her. They were standing in the chapel, their whispers the only ones that filled the air.

“The Centre knows where we are. We need to move,” came the curt reply.

Dr Brown looked at her contemplatively and the silence stretched until he broke it. “I’ll be able to look after Sydney but we need to move him to another hospital or specialised clinic as soon as possible.”

“Agreed. The nurse wanted a physician’s signature for the release papers. Can you…”

He took it from her and they left the chapel and moved towards ICU. Moving Sydney now was not ideal but he knew enough about the Centre to understand the reason why. He gave the signed papers to the head nurse and nodded curtly his agreement when the papers were queried again. He could see that she wasn’t happy about moving Sydney but he couldn’t assail her fears.

Miss Parker’s phone rang and the glare the nurse threw her was enough to freeze boiling water. Miss Parker ignored the look and answered quickly.

“Two teams just stopped in front.”

She didn’t bother answering. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “They’re here.”

Dr Brown nodded and an aura of haste entered his movements. “Claudia, can Sydney be moved now?” he asked hastily, glancing at the elevator doors and the light above them.

“Yes, the orderlies should be…hey!” she explained when he pushed her out of the way. Miss Parker grabbed one end of the bed and they started moving the bed, ignoring the still protesting nurse.

“Back elevators,” he said as they started moving. Miss Parker didn’t answer, only changed direction to show that she had heard.

“How do you know they won’t use it?”

He shook his head, even thought she couldn’t see him. “It’s used for deliveries. They shouldn’t know about it.”

Regardless, she drew her gun and held it ready at her side when she pushed the button. She watched Dr Brown glance at the light above the other doors way down the hall and understood his anxiousness.

“Come one…” she kept repeating like a mantra. She heard footsteps on the emergency next to her. Her hands were sweaty on the gun but she kept it ready. The door started to open when the ding sounded loudly next to her ear.

She didn’t have time to thank Lady Luck as they pushed Sydney into the elevator. The doors closed too slowly and just as a slit remained she heard a more distant ding.

They had made it. Just.

“He’s still stable.”

Guiltily, she glanced at Sydney. She had forgotten about him, her mind still on finding a clear way out.

“Broots has an ambulance waiting by the emergency doors.”

The doors opened by her side and she perused the immediate area. No black suits. Good. Helping Dr Brown to push Sydney’s bed, they manoeuvred it through the milling area towards the doors. A motion drew her attention and she looked towards it. Her eyes connected with the dark brown ones of Willie and held them for a moment. She saw him speak into a mike at his collar.

“Move. Now,” she growled just loud enough for the man behind her to hear as she increased her own speed.

She ignored the looks of doctors and medical personnel as they ran with the bed towards the doors. She thanked Broots when she saw the ambulance backing in and they slammed the bed into the back of the ambulance. Her gun was out and ready to use as she slammed the doors closed and ran for the driver’s door.

“Move over.”

Her words were sparse as Broots scrambled for the other side. She threw the gun at him and he fumbled before catching it by the barrel. She grinded it into first gear and spun the wheels as she tailgated before straightening for the entrance to the hospital. She watched Willie throw his hands in the air before earnestly beginning to shout into his mike.

She didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what he was saying.

“The safety is off, Broots. Don’t pull the damn trigger in the car.”

She saw the two black sedans racing her for the exit. In answer she pushed down on the gas and felt the power push the ambulance forward. It’s going to be close. Very.

“Broots, lower your window. I want you to aim the gun at the cars and then pull the trigger. The gun will recoil, so keep your hand steady. Aim for the body of the car.”

Broots paled but did as she asked. She heard the first loud report as the gun discharged. She could only hope that the tech could hit but she knew that even if he didn’t, it could by them the few milliseconds needed to win the race.

Another crack sounded and she watched as the front car swerved before straightening again. She smiled as she squeezed through the exit just in front of the others. She flicked the emergency switches.

“Broots, radio the police. Tell them there is a pair of black sedans chasing an ambulance with guns.”

Fifteen minutes later she let up on the gas when the two cars behind her were surrounded by police. It had been too close but they were still free. She switched the radio for the back and asked, “How’s Sydney doing?”

“Your driving didn’t help.”

She stayed silent and replaced the radio. She could hear from the strain in the doctor’s voice that things were not going well. She could only hope that the Major had better luck than they had.

Margaret sighed in relief when a dial tone sounded in her ear. She had found a phone that worked after the fifth one, or sixth – she wasn’t sure anymore. She pressed the familiar numbers and waited.

“Charles.”

“Thank God, Charles. It’s Margaret. I…Lyle…”

“We know. Are you hurt?”

“No…but J….Lyle cut him with a knife…he nearly died, Charles. I…”

“J’s still alive?”

“Yes…I think so. I left them with him…Jarod said to find you. You have to move Sydney to safety. Lyle wants Jarod to kill him.”

“He’s already being moved. Margaret, do you know where you are?”

She looked around her at the desolation. She couldn’t see any names or recognisable landmarks.

“I don’t know. It’s a deserted town. We drove a long time before we stopped here.”

Charles opened the local area map and started scanning the surrounding area to their farm. “Did you at any time leave the tar road?”

“Yes, I think about halfway through our journey.”

He scanned the lines as his finger travelled along the map. He could hear his wife’s tired breathing and it calmed it to know that she was at least safe for now. He found what he was looking for as his finger settled on the dimly printed name.

Foolsgate

No wonder it was a ghost town. “Margaret, you still there?” When she answered, he continued, “I know where you are. Stay close to the phone; I’ve got its number on mine. I’ll call you when Sydney’s safe. We’re on our way.”

Miss Parker answered on the second ring. She was 45 minutes from the clinic that will house Sydney. They had booked him in under a pseudonym. She could only pray that the Centre won’t do a deeper search of the local clinics and hospitals.

“Margaret’s safe. She just phoned me. It looks like Lyle drove them to a deserted town called Foolsgate. She escaped and has no idea whether Lyle still has Jarod or J.”

“The blood…”

“J’s. He’s seriously injured and Margaret told me that he nearly died.”

She was silent as she digested the information. She felt guilty for her relief for knowing it’s not Jarod’s.

“How long will it take us from the clinic to get there?”

“I don’t know. Best I can guess is an hour to two. Depends on the condition of the road.”

It had not been difficult to follow the trail. He entered the building warily, knowing that Jarod could have set traps. His fears were unfounded when he heard the soft rustle from an apartment close to the opening. A smile settled slowly when he took in the scene before him.

Jarod was busy stitching up Gemini’s side. His full concentration was on the boy and allowed Lyle to enter and take the gun from Jarod’s waistband. Jarod didn’t acknowledge his presence in any way. He continued to work silently on J. Lyle was content to watch, knowing he had the overhand. Jarod will pay later for his indiscretion at the warehouse.

“If he dies, it will be entirely your fault.”

Jarod finished his last stitch and slowly leaned back on his knees. “I wasn’t the one who knifed him in the stomach.”

He heard Lyle shift but he made no movement of his own except watch as J’s chest rose upwards.

“True, but that he deserved. If you hadn’t moved him, he will be recovering in his cell, not dying.”

Jarod met Lyle’s cold eyes angrily. He knew what the other was doing but he didn’t care. “I’ll never stop fighting you.”

Lyle laughed and it brought a chill to Jarod’s flesh. He didn’t like the sound or what it entailed. “Everyone has a breaking point, Jarod. Even you.”

“No!”

Lyle’s eyes darkened as he cleaned his fingers with his knife. So cliché but it never ceases to draw attention and fear. And he could see it trying to hide in Jarod’s eyes.

“Maybe Gemini can explain it to you someday…that’s if he survive the next hour.”

He could see Jarod swallow and he allowed another smirk to flash across his face. So predictable. So easy.

“I won’t allow you to touch him.”

Lyle rose from where he had been leaning against the wall and stepped towards the duo. “No? And how do you plan on stopping me?”

Jarod rose and stepped over J so that he was between the boy and Lyle. “You’ll have to kill me before I’ll allow you to touch him again.”

Lyle’s eyebrows rose as he said in a mocking tone, “Really?”

Jarod clenched his fists but stood his ground as the blond man stepped closer, his knife balanced in his hand. Jarod watched him closely and was ready when the knife lunged for his side. He managed blocked Lyle’s knife hand but was unable to prevent the punch to his already sore and bruised ribs. It dropped him to his knees but he used the pain as a way of fuelling his anger.

He rose swiftly, trying to come in under Lyle’s guard. He blocked another punch but it left his other side open for the blond man’s knife hand. He desperately started to pivot. The knife sliced into his arm, cutting deep into his muscle. He cried out in pain, grabbing his arm and pulling it close to his body. He could feel the blood welling up between his fingers and then start to drip towards the floor.

He didn’t move, standing hunched over as Lyle slowly circled him. His eyes followed the man as he tried to think past the numbness in his mind.

“Does that hurt?”

He didn’t reply, kept stubbornly quiet. Lyle tisked and shook his head. “Oh well, I’m sure Gemini will be ready to explain to me. You should have heard his screams…wait, you did.”

Jarod growled and lunged himself at Lyle. His fingers brushed the other man but his reactions were too slow. He landed on his side and curled into himself when Lyle kicked him. He could only watch as Lyle stepped over J and crouched beside the boy.

“Don’t hurt him.”

“Or what, Jarod? Who’s the one in control?”

Jarod swallowed his pride. His eyes couldn’t hide his fear for his brother when Lyle placed the knife over the newly stitched cut.

“You are.”

Lyle pressed slightly harder, his one eyebrow raised. Jarod watched the knife carefully as he stated again, “You are the one in control, Mr Lyle.” The knife rose and with it Lyle.

“How long before he can be safely moved?”

“I don’t know,” he replied sullenly. Lyle wasn’t impressed. “You’re a genius last time I checked, Jarod. Hazard a calculated guess.”

“Not soon. Not for a day at least if he is to survive.”

Lyle contemplated his statement while his blue eyes continued to roam over Jarod’s prone form.

“Very well, we’ll stay here for now. Any more escape attempts from you and I’ll make sure Gemini will get to know the real meaning of pain before I’ll release him from his misery. Are we clear?”

Jarod dropped his gaze and nodded. He heard Lyle move away before something clanked by his feet.

“Put them on.”

He did as he was told before tentatively moving closer to J. He seated himself by his brother and tended to his arm wound under the watchful gaze of their captor. He checked J’s breathing and pulse. It was still too weak for him to relax.

“Come on J. Don’t leave, please. Fight,” he whispered. He clasped his brother’s hand in his and held it, all the while wondering if it wouldn’t be better if his brother slipped away without being aware that they were back under Lyle’s control.

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

I’ve been on hiatus for the past eight days with no internet access. I’m finally back in a world where the internet exits…;-D Happy holidays to all.

Complications, threats and lies

Foolsgate

Jarod lifted his eyes and glanced at Lyle when he heard felt the vibration against his pocket. He had forgotten about the phone. He shifted his body and extracted his hands from J. He glanced at their captor again. Lyle seemed unaware of the soft vibration coming from him. Grimacing - as if in pain - he hunched slightly forward.

“I’ll take that,” Lyle said conversationally, a menacing undercurrent flowing beneath his words. Lyle stepped closer, his hand extended. Jarod sighed and placed the still vibrating phone in Lyle’s hand. He answered brusquely when he saw the phone number, his gaze on Jarod and the boy.

“I did as you asked, Mr Lyle. The message came through a few minutes ago. Miss Parker had managed to escape with the psychiatrist.”

Lyle sneered inwardly. “Did you trace their next location?”

“The tracker is working fine. I’ll be able to give you the exact longitude and latitude once they stop.”

“Good. Send that information through as soon as you have it,” he ordered, aware that Jarod was listening closely. Let him. The pretender needed to learn that he was not the one in control anymore.

“Your transport should arrive in the next twenty minutes or so. I’ve also arranged for the equipment you wanted.”

“Send them to the closest empty building to the south of the warehouse. There had been a brief thought of escape before sanity had been enforced.” Jarod heard the smug satisfaction in Lyle’s voice. He kept his gaze on J’s fevered face, wondering how long Lyle had been planning this.

“The chairman is not happy. He thinks that you had a finger in helping Miss Parker and the others escape. He wants to speak to you.”

“Tell him I’m busy. I’ll speak to him as soon as it’s convenient.” He could still hear the other protesting when he shut the connection.

Jarod send him a hate-filled glare while he returned the phone to his pocket. “Tell me one thing,” Jarod said in a controlled voice, “Was what you did to J a mistake or part of your grant plan to get back at me?”

Lyle crouched on the other side of J, his hand wiping the boy’s hair away from his sweat covered forehead. Although the action seemed tender and caring, Jarod knew better. Lyle’s hand stilled, balanced.

“Does it matter?”

Jarod bristled with anger barely kept in check. He wanted nothing more than to slap Lyle’s hand away from J’s head. “Yes,” He managed to grind out through clenched teeth.

Lyle paused before answering, “You’ve always underestimated the lengths I’m prepared to go to make your life mine.”

“I’ll stay with you if you leave my family alone,” Jarod said quietly. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs. This was the second time he had made the offer, hoping against hope that Lyle will take it.

“Why would I do that, Jarod? We both know what family means to you.”

Jarod followed Lyle’s hand as it travelled over J’s face and settled loosely on his throat. He didn’t move; his body tight with tension that started from a strangled knot somewhere in the middle of his stomach and travelled upwards from there.

“As long as you threaten me with them, I’ll fight you.”

“And they will be punished for your disobedience.”

Jarod tried to keep all emotion out of his face at the threat. He willed his hands to relax, trying to ease an air of confidence around himself. “You will regret it,” he promised in a controlled voice. Lyle’s hand tightened around J’s throat in defiance to the words that Jarod had uttered. The boy moaned softly and turned his head sideways. Jarod couldn’t continue to watch. He reached out and closed his hands lightly around Lyle’s wrist.

“He’s done nothing wrong.”

Lyle twisted his hand out of Jarod’s grip. J lay quiet between them; the only sound his intake of breath after the constriction. His eyes still closed, he shifted in semi conscious again while the two men continued their staring contest above him.

“That was not a smart thing to do,” Lyle hissed, his eyes almost opaque from anger.

“You keep on harping about my family, Mr Lyle,” Jarod retorted, making sure his voice didn’t rise above a whisper, “Killing J will not be helpful towards getting me to cooperate, now will it?”

Lyle stood up slowly, his every gesture screaming of control. “You misunderstood me, Jarod. I will and can kill Gemini when I so choose. His life belongs to me. I made him mine before you managed to rescue him.”

Jarod didn’t want to think on what Lyle meant. His anxiety rose but he kept his composure. “J doesn’t belong to you or the Centre.” Jarod said, emphasising the boy’s name for good measure. Not that it would make any difference to Lyle.

“He didn’t tell you what happened, did he?”

Jarod found that he was holding his breath and he reminded himself to keep breathing. Lyle was going to tell him, regardless of what he would say in return.

“Do you want the condensed version or the longer more detailed one?”

“What if I said none?”

Lyle simply smiled and shook his head. He glanced at his watch and then said, “I’ll make it the condensed one.” He paused, letting the words sink in before saying nonchalantly, “Quite simply, Gemini helped me to kill a girl.”

“No…,” Jarod trailed off, before his voice got stronger, “I don’t believe you.”

Lyle’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Maybe next time he’s awake, ask him. I don’t really have the time to go into greater detail right now.”

Jarod was about to protest further when he heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine from outside. It shut down and then car doors sounded. He heard voices and Lyle shouted, “In here.” Thirty seconds later two burly sweepers entered the room.

“Get the boy in the van,” Lyle instructed, giving Jarod a warning glance when he stood and stepped over the boy. He knew he couldn’t win but he had to try at least.

“You’ll kill him,” he stated, glaring at the men and Lyle in turn.

Lyle rolled his eyes and then addressed one of the sweepers, “Bring the stretcher.” He looked at Jarod and asked, “Will that suffice?”

Jarod had no choice but to nod. He directed the men as the loaded J onto the stretcher and started to follow. A hand curled familiarly around his bicep, bringing him to a halt. His muscles clenched but he stayed as commanded. One of the men came back and Lyle gave further instructions for them to wait by the car. Lyle waited for the door to close before he pushed the pretender to the centre of the room and commanded him to kneel.

Unnerved by the growing feeling of dread, Jarod waited too long before obeying. Lyle roughly shoved him down, his hand firm on Jarod’s shoulder. “It is time you’re reminded about your place, Jarod. I will not tolerate your earlier behaviour. I want you to apologise.”

When Jarod didn’t reply, Lyle leaned in to whisper in the pretender’s ear. “Apologise or I’ll leave Gemini here to rot.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, staring defiantly at Lyle.

His captor slowly extracted the knife, balancing it against his palm. “You’re not, but you will be.”

Miss Parker kissed Sydney’s on his forehead before straightening. She stepped back, allowing the doctor to continue with his assessment.

“He’s your father?”

She acknowledged the question. Sydney had been more of a father to her in any case than her own. She could see Dr Brown’s slightly raised eyebrows and she ignored them. She was prepared to kill to keep Sydney safe. Lying was the least of her worries.

“I’ll need to do a CAT-scan to verify the trauma area.”

“Do what you need to get him well, Doctor,” she replied calmly.

She stayed for a few minutes until Sydney was pushed out the room. Dr Brown had the same look on his face that Sydney had when she had a particular bad day at the Centre. She watched him open his mouth just as a soft knock sounded on the door.

Major Charles stood in the doorway, his gaze shifting from a rigid Miss Parker to Dr Brown leaning against the one wall.

“How is Sydney doing?” he asked Miss Parker, hoping to diffuse the tense atmosphere.

“Don’t know yet. I’m sure Dr Brown will let us know as soon as the tests are done,” Miss Parker stated with a warning glance at the psychiatrist. “We should be on our way.”

The Major waited for her to pass before he threw an apologetic look at the other man. Dr Brown just shrugged his shoulders in answer. He had to hurry to catch up to Miss Parker.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she snapped, increasing her pace. They exited the clinic in silence. The older man slid behind the steering wheel and watched as Miss Parker calmly checked her gun. She was interrupted by her phone.

“Hello sis,” came the suave voice of her brother.

“Twice in two days. I’m honoured,” she replied. She pressed the phone against her ear and slammed the cartridge into her gun. She cocked the gun, smiling grimly.

Lyle ignored the sound of a bullet slamming into the chamber. Ignoring Jarod’s laboured breathing, he wiped the knife on the pretender’s trousers before asking, “How’s Sydney?”

“Somewhere safe,” she replied. “If I were you I’d run because when I catch you…” she let her words trial of meaningfully.

“Your track record in that department is a little shaky.” Lyle replied mockingly. “So excuse my reluctance to believe in it.”

“Don’t worry, Lyle. I don’t plan on failing,” she said determinedly. “Why are you calling?”

Lyle crouched besides the pretender and trialled his finger through the blood on Jarod’s chest. Jarod stiffened under his touch and he smiled. “So….did Margaret manage to phone you yet?”

Miss Parker didn’t answer and the silence stretched before Lyle continued, “I’ll take that as a yes then. I guess she told you about Gemini.”

His tone of voice somehow made it into a question. Miss Parker leaned against the backrest of the seat and pinched her nose between her two fingers. There was a reason why Lyle was bringing J into the equation.

“If he dies, so do you.”

“Is that a promise?” Lyle asked, his voice dangerously low.

“No. It’s a fact. What do you want, Lyle,” she answered, her voice matching his.

“Hold on,” Lyle said. He could hear his sister swearing. He ignored the words and placed the phone against Jarod’s ear.

“Parker,” the pretender managed to utter. The swearing stopped. He could hear her breath through the static in his ear. He hated what he had to do but he had no choice. He could feel Lyle’s impatience at his stalling but he didn’t know how to say what he had been told.

“Jarod, are you all right?”

He almost smiled. All right was relative term where Lyle was concerned. “I’ll survive,” he said while he imagined the look of doubt on her face. She didn’t reply and the silence stretched to a full minute while he gathered his courage. Lyle traced one of the cuts on his back warningly. He sighed and then said evenly, “J’s dead.”

“What?” He could hear the disbelief in her voice and he willed her not to trust his words. Lyle’s fingers pressed slightly harder and he tried to keep the pain out of his voice. “I…I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry.”

“Is Lyle making you say this, Jarod?”

Jarod didn’t meet the icy gaze of his captor. “No. It’s the truth,” he allowed a catch in his voice. J’s life depended on making Parker believe him.

“Jarod?” The soft question held a note of desperation and uncertainty. He hated himself in that moment but it couldn’t be helped.

“I’m sorry.”

Lyle took they phone from Jarod’s ear and stepped away from him. “You still there, sis?”

“Yes,” she ground out, her teeth firmly gritted.

“I want the location of Margaret.”

“You’re insane if you think that we’ll give you that information,” she said, angered.

“I’m not in the mood to search for her and if I had to, I can promise that it won’t bode well for her when I do find her. So make it easy on every one, include lover boy, and just tell me.”

“When hell freezes over and you’re in it.”

Lyle took a deep breath before he allowed his phone hand to drop and hang by his side. He kneeled by the pretender and turned Jarod onto his stomach. The pretender’s breath hitched up a notch but he otherwise stayed quiet. Making sure his knee grinded into Jarod’s lower back, Lyle placed the phone by Jarod’s face. He could hear Parker’s voice shouting his name over the phone. He placed the tip of the knife just between Jarod’s shoulder blades. He felt the muscles tense even further.

“I want you to scream.”

Jarod couldn’t quite believe what he had heard. Miss Parker must have heard the words for the line went silent for a moment before she started to protest. He clenched his hands and bit his lip. He wasn’t going to give Lyle the pleasure. His breathing stopped as the first cut was made. He could feel the blood running down his back but he managed to keep the pain in check. Lyle stopped abruptly and Jarod opened his eyes in surprise. The pressure on his lower back lifted and then he was flipped angrily onto his back. The look in Lyle’s face scared him and then his hands was pulled over his head and pushed against the floor. A knee was placed against his arm before he could roll out of position. One of his fingers was separated and then the cool blade of the knife was placed against the warm flesh.

“Please, no,” he pleaded hoarsely. He could hear Parker calling his name and then Lyle’s. When the knife bit into the skin and then the muscle of his thumb, he couldn’t help the scream. It tore from deep inside and seemed to echo in his skull. Tears filled his eyes and he writhed in agony as Lyle continued to cut into his thumb. He had no pride left when the knife hit bone and he pleaded unashamedly, not caring that Parker was still online and hearing everything. Lyle pulled the knife away and grabbed the phone. Jarod curled into his bleeding hand and tried to control his breathing while the tears still ran unchecked down his cheeks.

“Margaret’s location,” Lyle breathed, his voice sending slow chills up and down Jarod’s spine. He could hear the defeat in her voice when she said, “We don’t know the exact location. It’s a payphone somewhere in a town called Foolsgate.”

“Not good enough,” Lyle replied with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Jarod tried to suppress a moan at the promise in the voice as he curled even tighter. His thumb pulsed in even strokes, sending a blue fire with each one.

“She doesn’t know where she is. We told her to stay by the phone until we arrived.” Her anxiety rose when Lyle stayed silent. “It’s the truth, Lyle.” She kept the rest of her words in check. Now was not the time to infuriate Lyle further.

“Give me the number.”

She rambled it off, ignoring the look the Major send her. Her grip tightened painfully on her cell when Lyle cautioned, “Don’t warn her Parker or Jarod will lose more than his thumb.”

It had been nearly an hour when the phone finally rang. She stood in the doorway and listened to the ring while her eyes roamed the surrounding area. Nothing moved and she walked hurriedly to the box and lifted the phone from its handle.

“Charles?”

“I’m disappointed, Margaret. I thought you loved your sons more.”

Horror flooded her as she listened to the cool words spoken over the line. “H…how,” she stammered, unable to think past the knowledge that Lyle had the number. She turned in the box and eyed the surrounding area.

“A little birdie told me.”

She leaned her forehead against the stained and cracked glass. She took a deep breath and tried to work past the debilitating numbness in her mind.

“Margaret? Are you still there?” he asked with false concern.

“Yes, I’m still here.”

“Good. I don’t want to lose you again. It may be deadly to Gemini.”

She didn’t reply. She heard footsteps and turned. Lyle stood with his cell phone against his ear at the other end of the building. When he noticed her stare, he gave a small wave. His phone slid into a pocket as he stepped confidently closer until he stood in front of her.

“I’ve missed you.”

She slowly reset the phone on its handle while fear for Jarod and J gnawed at her mind. She willed her trembling hand to still when Lyle stepped out of her way. He showed the way with one hand and she stepped past him, her eyes on the trees in the distance. He fell in beside her, once hand resting lightly on her back, steering. They walked past the building and slipped into an alley she had not seen earlier. Her heart thudded in her throat as they stepped around overgrown grass and broken bottles.

“You shouldn’t have left,” he said calmly as they exited the alley and she noticed the black van in front of the building before them. “Jarod had to be punished.”

She willed her feet forward while his words ripped jagged chunks out of her heart. “You’re insane,” was all she could think of to say. Lyle only rolled his eyes at her words. “Who’s really sane in this world?”

“Bobby, don’t do this.”

He gripped her upper arm painfully, forcing her to face him as he brought them to a halt. “Don’t ever call me that,” he hissed, his face inches from her. She could see the anger smouldering in his blue orbs. “My name is Mr Lyle.”

“I knew your mother, Bobby. She would not have wanted you to be so twisted by Raines.”

Lyle looked at her before striking her with the back of his gloved hand. “You will not refer to Bobby or my mother again. If you do, I’ll make sure Jarod suffers.”

Margaret wiped at the small sliver of blood that dripped down from the cut in her lip. His grip was bruising on her arm but she refrained from showing that he was hurting her. “You cannot deny your birthright.”

“Who says I’m denying my Parker legacy. I was born to have everything.”

“By everything you mean the Centre.” Margaret replied, her gaze meeting Lyle’s unflinchingly.

“Yes,” Lyle replied seriously, “And your son will help me achieve it.”

“Jarod will never help you.”

“That’s where you are mistaken. To save you and Gemini, Jarod will sell his soul to me.”

Seemingly tired of the conversation, Lyle dragged Margaret to the van and opened the back doors. J was on a stretcher against one wall of the van. He didn’t look any different when she had last seen him. She gasped when she saw Jarod. He was curled against the opposite corner, his knees drawn towards his stomach. The parts of his upper torso she could see were covered in blood. Tears had made twin paths down the grime in his face. He was cradling what looked like his left hand against his chest. She started to move forward. The hand around her upper arm didn’t let go and she turned.

“You will be staying with me in the cab.”

She lashed out with her other hand against his chest in anger and when he didn’t let go, she kicked at his shin. He let go as his hand automatically dropped towards the area. “You bitch,” he uttered. She ignored his rumblings, instead focused on getting to Jarod. The click of a gun sounded, bringing her to an immediate halt. She turned her head and saw the barrel pointed directly towards J.

“Do that again and Gemini gets a bullet in his knee.” Fully aware that he had her attention, he continued, “I want you in the front cab now.” She acknowledged his command and gave her sons a longing glance before walking around the back and entering the passenger side. A sweeper was already behind the steering wheel. Lyle joined them shortly and she was sandwiched between the two men.

“Don’t worry, Margaret. As long as Jarod does as he is told, you and Gemini will be safe.”

She didn’t believe a word of it.

“Damn it, Parker. Did you have to tell him the location? He’ll use Margaret to control Jarod and us even further.”

Miss Parker spun from staring out the window to look at the Major. “Don’t tell me you didn’t hear Jarod’s screams. It’s still echoing in my mind. I had no choice.”

“So you gave in just like that,” Charles retorted angrily. “Without a second thought you gave her up.”

“I did what I had to. I will not apologise for it,” she explained while she pushed the car door open. The major followed suit and he grabbed her arm when he caught up with her.

“We’re not done, Parker.”

She looked down at his hand that was gripping her arm. “Tell me, Major,” she said softly, “what would you have done any differently?”

He studied her determined face, her eyes haunted with Jarod’s screams. It mirrored his own. He dropped his hand. “I don’t know,” he said eventually. “I hate this.” He blinked away the moisture from his eyes before it had time to form. Parker nodded and then turned away from him. He allowed her too take a few steps when he said, “I don’t believe what Jarod told you about J. He’s still alive.”

She paused mid-stride. She kept her back to him. “I believe Jarod. He wouldn’t lie about it.”

He wanted to walk over to her but held back. She needed to deal with this on her own way. “Think about it, Parker. If J had really died, why would Jarod tell us? The only way that Lyle could force him is for the boy to be still alive and to be used as leverage.”

She pivoted back around so that her gaze met the Major’s. “Fine. It sounds plausible but why would Lyle want us to believe J is dead?”

“To keep us focused away from what he is planning. On where he is going next.”

She was silent while she focused inwards and what she knew about her brother and Jarod. They had been going at this the wrong way. They had been chasing her brother’s tail. He had phoned twice to rub her face in it. Then the random facts she had been painstakingly tracing in her mind connected. She turned back to the clinic without a word.

“We need to leave.”

Charles caught up with her as she entered through the double doors. “Why?”

“The first thing Lyle asked me was how Sydney was doing. Remember what Margaret told us my brother wanted to do.”

“We can’t keep on moving Sydney. He needs medical care. More than we can give him.”

“I know,” Parker said, seeing the older man’s agitation. “My brother will always be one step ahead if we keep chasing him. So we change strategies. We allow him to come to us. We stop running.”

Major Charles looked at her as understanding dawned. The he returned her smile. “We have a lot of planning to do but it might just work.”

“Not might. Will. It will work.”

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Burial

Unknown area

Margaret shuddered as Lyle gave a soft smile.

“Very good. I’ll be in touch.”

She didn't like the glint in his eye when he closed the phone and turned to her. She fidgeted, and then looked away, staring at the road that stretched out before them.

“Take the next turnoff to the right. There should be a car parked next to the road. Stop behind it.”

The sweeper acknowledged the command and then the silence continued until the van slowed and came to a halt behind a maroon sedan.

“Let’s go, Margaret,” Lyle said as he held the door open for her. She followed him to the back of the van and waited by his side as the sweeper opened the doors. It looked like J hasn’t moved at all. She started towards his unresponsive body and stopped when she saw Lyle shook his head lightly.

“Please, I…I just…I need to see if my son is still alive,” she pleaded softly; her gaze never leaving J’s body. Lyle seemed to consider her request, his head tilted at a slight angle, his eyes cold. She didn’t dare breath and at last after what felt like an hour he nodded.

She rushed forward and entered the van. Jarod shifted into a seated position, his eyes slits when he met her eyes. She could see the pain and fear etched into his face. He swallowed visibly before he whispered, “Did he hurt you?”

“No, I’m ok.”

She turned away, hiding her face as she reached out trembling fingers to gently caress J’s face. She desperately wanted him to stir, to show that he was aware of her but there was nothing. He remained still and quiet, the only indication that he was alive was the barely perceived movement of his chest.

“I love you J,” she said as she leaned forward and kissed her son’s forehead. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. Just hold on, ok. Please, just don’t give in.”

She wiped a stray tear away quickly when she climbed out. Jarod was pulled out by the sweeper and the doors were closed behind him.

“What are you doing? Where are you taking J?”

“Nothing that concerns you for the moment, Margaret.”

“He’s my son! I have a right to know.”

Lyle gave only a half smirk. “Really?”

She looked at Jarod quickly. He was barely lucid enough to follow the conversation, his head down and his body hunched over his hand that he was cradling.

“You listen to me, Bobby. I will…”

The sound of a loud slap followed and Jarod growled, lifting his head.

“I warned you, Margaret. Do you want me to release Gemini from his misery?” Lyle spat, his face livid with fury. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close until their faces were inches apart. She could hear Jarod struggling weakly against the grip of the sweeper.

“Lyle, no. Don’t.”

His eyes drifted from her to Jarod before it settled back on hers. “Do that again and I will put a bullet in Gemini’s head,” he hissed harshly. “Do you understand me, Margaret?”

“Yes.”

He scrutinised her face for another minute before he finally released her arm. She rubbed the area where his fingers had left bruises subconsciously as Lyle disappeared around the van. The sweeper released Jarod and he stumbled towards her.

“Mom?”

Jarod reached out and gently touched the bruised side of her face. She flinched a little but held still. Small blood smears trailed from Jarod’s fingers onto her skin.

“I’m okay. It’s not that serious,” she replied as she turned her attention to his hand that was still held protectively close to his body.

“Oh God,” she choked out, tears flooding her eyes when she finally got a look at Jarod’s left hand. Jarod grimaced and then turned away when his mother reached for the wounded limb.

“You have to get out of here,” he whispered desperately, keeping his eyes averted. “I can distract Lyle. You have to…”

She pulled at his arm, turning him so that he was forced to face her. His voice trailed to silence as she pulled his head against her shoulder and murmured small words of comfort. Jarod allowed a small sob to escape and then took a deep shuddering breath as he tried to bring his emotions under control. Despite their situation, he felt safe in her arms and it was with reluctance that he pushed away from her embrace when he heard Lyle’s footsteps. They turned, facing him as he came around the van, a tog bag in his hand.

He took out a shirt and tossed it at Jarod, commanding him to put it on. Jarod did so slowly, wondering what Lyle had planned. The blood, sweat and grime against his body quickly rubbed off on the shirt, leaving dirt and blood smears across it.

Lyle pulled a water bottle and a cloth from the bag and walked over to where they stood.

“Drink.”

Margaret took a sip and then passed the bottle to Jarod. He tasted the water and then started to gulp it down as the cool liquid slit down his throat. He had no idea he had been that parched. His headache subsided somewhat after the bottle was finished. Lyle lifted his other hand, an evil smile on his face.

“Are you going to fight me on this, Jarod?”

Jarod stepped protectively in front of his mother. He couldn’t move his gaze away from the cloth in the psychopath’s hand. If he was blind, he couldn’t protect his mother. He wouldn’t be able to see the blows coming.

“You won’t need it,” he stated, feeling his pulse quicken with each passing second. “I promise I won’t try to escape.”

Lyle shook his head, the smile still fixed on his face as he calmly stepped closer. Jarod retreated with the same measured pace, pushing his mom back with him.

“Please.”

“Sorry Jarod. But I can’t trust you yet. You understand that, don’t you?”

Jarod didn’t answer, instead glanced at the bleak surroundings. Nothing but arid land greeted his sight. A few straggling bushes clung to the soil and a small hill rose out of the land just to the west of them. Red rock against the light blue sky.

His shoulders slumped and he stopped. There was nowhere to run, even if he could, and he would never leave J behind. Lyle grinned, his eyes glistening as he closed the distance and slid the cloth over Jarod’s head. He could feel the smooth material as it closed over his eyes, bringing his world back to darkness. A hand closed familiarly around his bicep.

“We’re going for a walk, Jarod.”

The hollow pit in his stomach increased and he resisted when Lyle pushed him forward. His hand reached upward to pull the blindfold off. His hand stopped halfway when he heard a small painful gasp from his mother.

“I’ll do what you want, Lyle, just…just don’t hurt her, please.”

“One more attempt of resistance from you, Jarod and your mother will die.” He could hear the open malice in Lyle’s voice and he nodded wordlessly. He followed Lyle’s directions, stumbling his way forward. A soft hand closed around his other arm and he felt grateful to know that his mother was next to his side.

They continued their trek and it was around twenty minutes later that they came to a halt. Jarod was pushed into a kneeling position and he resisted the urge to fight, his thoughts on Lyle’s last promise. The cold steel closed around his wrist of his good hand and then pulled back. The other bracelet closed around his left ankle, leaving him kneeling in an awkward position. He couldn’t stand up even if he had wanted to. Only after he was secured did Lyle remove the blindfold.

He blinked against the fading light of dusk until he could finally make out his nemesis in front of him.

Avoiding eye contact with Lyle, he searched for his mother. She stood slightly to Lyle’s left and when he saw the oblong shaped casket to her left, he started to struggle.

“Don’t. You can’t do this, Lyle. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t do this. Please, don’t.”

He continued his struggles, feeling the blood slick against his wrist and ankle when the cuffs broke through his barely healed skin.

“She will be your incentive to follow through on your earlier promise. I don’t want a chance for you to mess things up.”

Jarod closed his eyes briefly, trying to get the image of Red Rock and the sheriff’s wife out of his mind. It didn’t work. The woman’s face morphed into his own mother’s and he remembered clearly how close he and Kyle had come to not saving her in time. He tried to think of a way out of this, to save his mother from getting into the coffin. Twin tears were starting their trek down.

“Leave her with the boy and hide them. If I don’t follow through or he doesn’t receive a phone call from you within an allotted time, he can do to them whatever you want.” His voice was urgent, low and the words stumbled from his mouth. “You don’t have to do this. There are too many variables that can go wrong.”

“No, Jarod. This way I’ll ensure that nothing will go wrong. It will help to keep your focus on what you’re supposed to do and away from finding ways to escape.” Lyle told him, stepping towards Margaret.

“Mom, run!”

His voice had an edge to it that Margaret had never heard before and she gave a frightened gaze that alternated between her son and Lyle’s.

“Run!”

Her frozen limbs suddenly exploded and she turned and bolted for the small hill that was almost directly in front of her. Long shadows cast across the ground in front of her as the sun slowly slid behind the horizon. She didn’t get far when his harsh voice interrupted her flight.

“Continue to run, Margaret and your son gets a bullet in his head.”

Margaret turned back slowly and her breath froze in her throat. Lyle had Jarod by the hair, the barrel of his gun pressed hard against her son’s temple.

“Get back here or he dies right now.”

She looked at Jarod’s face and saw in his eyes that he wanted her to run, to get away if possible. But she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t live with the knowledge that she would be responsible for his death.

She took a deep breath, gathering her courage and walked back to where the two men waited.

Unknown area

The darkness was so deep that he could see no light. He felt cold. He tried to wrap his arms around his body but it brought no comfort. The cold radiated from somewhere inside him, outwards until all he felt was numbness. He blinked against the darkness, his eyes tearing and yet there was nothing. He closed his eyes and leaned back. Though he could sense the leather against the shirt and the shirt against his back, he couldn’t seem to get his nerve endings to acknowledge the actual feel of it.

It was too cold. Too numb. Too much.

There was another presence. He knew that this presence was the reason for his non-feeling, for his numbness. He knew that its existence was defined by others, made into being until it had conformed. He wondered briefly if that was what was happening to him.

Too much.

He knew without knowing what the presence embodied. It moved closer and he felt his breath hitch a little as the beating in his chest increased by a fraction. He could move his arms and legs, but he stayed still. He would only watch and be silent. Be aware but be invisible. Be conscious but try not to think too much.

He jumped slightly when heat touched his face. He opened his eyes and the darkness receded until he was aware enough of who it was that was staring at him from across the vast distance that was nothing. He watched fascinated as the mouth opened and closed. Sound reached his ears an infinite time later and he nodded, not really aware of why.

Anything to go back to his state of bliss, of unawareness.

Before he could slip away again, a stinging sensation spread outward from his cheek, his head ricocheting of towards the side. A rush of feeling drowned the numbness until he became aware again and the hopelessness of his situation enforced itself back into his psyche.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

And awoke, sharply.

“I see you’re awake. Good. We’re nearly there.”

Jarod didn’t reply, instead continued to gaze out the window by his head. It was dark, the sky bright with starlight. The horizon’s backdrop of flatness was broken occasionally by small hills or rock outcroppings. It had the feel of an alien landscape; all that was missing was little green men and Miss Parker.

A slight smile settled briefly before it disappeared again, just as quickly. His breath was making small clouds of condensation on the window pane; his skin – where it touched the window – was numb with cold.

“Do you remember the plan?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge his captor except for what was necessary. Lyle glanced at him briefly in irritation before turning his concentration back to the road in front of them.

“Get in there, Margaret.”

“No, I…please, Lyle,” Jarod pleaded.

He didn’t know what else to say anymore. His last words came out broken, his eyes dark and moist. Lyle smiled down at him and they both watched as his mother climbed shakily into the metal box. He had nothing more to give. His soul felt bruised and numb. He started to shiver uncontrollably.

“Mom?”

Her smile quivered for a brief moment until she turned her eyes from him towards the sociopath. It disappeared, her eyes wide with fear, her nostrils flaring. He tried not to but it came as second nature as he started to sim his mother.

He began to scream his safe word frenziedly, over and over. The panic inside his chest didn’t want to let up and he started to hyperventilate. Lyle stalked over and he was aware again when his face impacted with the dirt.

All he could inhale was the smell of fresh, moist dirt that had been unearthed not too long ago. He snorted, trying to get the cloying feel of it out of his nostrils.

The clang as the lid closed echoed around him, through the hills and he started to sob uncontrollably. He wasn’t aware of the skin he had now completely scrubbed raw with his efforts to free himself. The tang of copper filled his nostrils as Lyle grunted and pushed the box into the hole. The dull thud as it hit bottom rang through the ground, vibrating through his bones.

The sound of dirt hitting metal felt like the stab of a knife into his body until with the last settling of dust, his hope had bled out, leaving a gaping hole of numbness.

The car slowed and turned into a side street that led towards bright lights and civilisation. Lyle brought the car to a halt in a darkened corner of the street, just before the entrance to the clinic. The man turned sideways in his seat and reached back. Jarod shifted as he put the blanket around the pretender, tucking him in against the seat and safety belt. The thumbless hand turned Jarod’s face towards him and he didn’t move it from his hold until the dark eyes settled slowly on his own.

“You better make this believable, Jarod. I would hate for your mother to run out of air, alone, afraid.”

His face had no emotion, his voice no inflection when Jarod answered, “I was born to pretend. Can you?”

Lyle gave a short burst of laughter and patted Jarod’s face lightly. “Very good, Jarod,” he said patronizingly, emulating Sydney. “Do you need more time or can we go. I don’t have to remind you that you have a twelve hour window.”

Jarod shrugged and as Lyle started the car and pulled away, he leaned his head back against the window, feeling the warming spot that had been numbed by the window before, cool again.

Jarod was leaning against the car, his tall body hunched inwards, as if to ward of blows. Satisfied that the pretender was not going to move from his position, Lyle turned away and dialled a very familiar number. The deep, sensual voice of his sister waved over the line and he smiled.

“Hello Sis. Miss me?”

“No. You’re not dead yet?”

He felt too good to be slighted by her sarcastic wit. He could his pretender’s questioning gaze on his back. Jarod was his and he had finally managed to break the man. No, he decided. Nothing his sister could say will take that feeling of triumph away from him.

“I want you and Major Charles to meet me on the old Bauer farm in one hour. No guns.”

“It will take us longer than that to get there.”

“Steal a helicopter then. I don’t care. If you’re not there, I get to shoot Margaret or Gemini.”

He cut her off then, knowing that it would infuriate her further. Better for him. That way she wouldn’t think to clearly. He wanted her out of the way. Away from any chance of saving Jarod from doing what he is told.

Away from saving Sydney.

The door opened and he nearly fell out the car. The pressure of his safety belt was released and then he felt hands pull him from his seat. Jarod staggered and then Lyle was pulling his arm around his shoulders, helping him upright. He moaned, shifting his feet so that it looked like he was weaker than he was.

“We were hiking and we saw a coyote or something and then he fell. I…we finally got to my car. He’s really hurt. I don’t know if…,” Lyle’s continued to babble, sounding just like a concerned friend. He felt his back sink into softness and then a vision of light exploded into his right eye. He turned his head away sharply.

“What’s your friend’s name?”

“Bobby. Bobby Bowmen.”

“Any allergies?”

The voice was business like, as hands continued to prod his body. He felt suddenly nauseous, aware of what had to come later and as the burning started upwards towards his throat he heard Lyle say pistachios. Someone helped him upwards and sideways and then he was hanging over the bed, purging his stomach. Hands patted his back soothingly and after a short while when he fell composed enough, he allowed them to lean him back against the bed.

“Bobby, can you hear me?”

It took him a moment before he remembered that the name was his for now. He managed a nod as the pressure cuff around his arm tightened. He heard his blood pressure read out, and something about it being too low.

“Bobby, I need to check your ribs. If it hurts, tell me ok.”

He felt the shirt being cut away and then he heard a slight gasp from somewhere to his right.

“How far did he fall?”

Lyle answered the question and it almost sounded like the man was close to tears. He opened his eyes to slits. Lyle had a look of concern on his face, the very essence of what a friend would be like. He didn’t wonder any more how the man had been able to convince the authorities that his father had killed his best friend.

Fingers gently roved over his bruises and cuts and then he allowed consciousness to slip away.

He awoke some time later to stillness. He was clean, dressed in the usual hospital garb. Lyle was sitting by his side, a magazine in his lap.

“How you feeling? Want some ice chips?”

Jarod gave a small nod and then watched warily as the other man got up and moved towards the side table.

“Don’t disappoint me now, Jarod,” he whispered as a presence filled the doorway.

“Good, you’re awake Mr Bowman. I’m Dr Brennan and I’ve been assigned to your case. Nasty fall you had there.”

Jarod didn’t reply and turned his head away from Lyle, staring at the water stain on the wall to his right. He heard the woman order his captor out and it was with protest that Lyle left. He could feel the warning stare the other man left him with. He ignored it.

The door closed and he slowly slit upwards until he leaned against the headboard. Doctor Brennan started taking his vitals and he stayed quiet, answering only when it was expected. When she was done, she sat down on the bed and tilted her head slightly, her gaze sympathetic.

“Care to tell me why you have burn marks on your wrists?”

He pulled the blanket higher and looked at her in silence. “Tell me, Bobby, is that really your friend out there?”

“Yes.”

She smiled reassuringly. “You do know that whatever you tell me will be in confidence? There are a lot of things that don’t add up and unless you tell me what really happened to you, I will be forced to let the sheriff know about your case.”

“N…nothing happened,” his voice cracked and he had to swallow before he could continue, “I…we, there was….I just slipped and fell. That’s it. You have to believe me.”

He could see it in her eyes that he hadn’t convinced her at all. He knew she wasn’t going to let this go.

“I’m really tired.”

He watched her leave and Lyle re-enter the room. He had a duffel bag in his hand that he threw on the bed before locking the room.

“Get dressed.”

“It’s too soon. They’ll be watching this room.”

Lyle lifted an eyebrow, his head tilted slightly. “Really, Jarod? Or are you trying to put of the inevitable?”

“Just give it another thirty minutes. At least by then it should be easier to slip out.”

Lyle considered his request and for a moment he thought he had failed. But in the end his captor agreed.

J woke to darkness and for a moment he was disorientated. His hand reached out towards his bed light and instead of the switch he hit a solid metal wall. It took him another few minutes before he remembered the last day. The last thing he could recall was being in a room, with his brother holding his hand.

If that was the case and he was back what seems like the back of a utility van then it must mean that he and his brother was back under Lyle’s control.

He slowly sat up, feeling his side. The pain was manageable and he slowly slid forward until he met the doors. He was surprised to find the door unlocked and he opened it slowly until only a slit of moonlight entered the back. The smell of smoke wafted inside and he heard a soft shuffle before the point of a cigarette end glowed briefly. The guard was standing by the side of the van, facing the horizon.

J waited, counting under his breath until the guard turned and walked towards the front of the van, out of his sight. Very carefully he lowered himself out of the back, closing the door, making sure that no click sounded. His side gave a twinge and the muscles pulled when he lowered himself until he was under the van.

The feet of the guard appeared briefly in front of him. “No. Everything’s quiet.” A short pause followed and then the sweeper replied, “I can’t hear the generator from my position. Wait.”

J watched as the guard walked off into the veldt. He squirmed out from under the van and started to follow, careful to keep his distance and trying to stay out of sight in the sparse surroundings.

“It’s still running.”

He had no idea what the guard was on about until he took a tentative step closer and his ears picked up the very faint beat of a generator. Making himself small behind a straggly bush, he watched the man disappear back to the van.

His side still hurt but he felt better. Jarod must have done a miracle to the cut or else his sleep had done him good. He knew that he wasn’t out of it yet but at least it didn’t feel like he was dying. He hoped he wasn’t so disillusioned that he was ignoring his own peril by moving about. He just knew that he couldn’t wait for Lyle to start his games again.

The faint beat intrigued him and he decided to investigate. Moving stealthily closer, he kept an eye constantly on the lookout for the sweeper. The generator was loud, increasing his caution. One hand was holding on to his side, his breaths coming faster. Sweat had started to form on his forehead again. He knew it wasn’t a good sign but nothing less decided that anything was better than being with Lyle.

A clang sounded and he swore briefly when his foot connected with another object. He stopped and waited, holding his breath until he was satisfied that the sweeper had not heard. Crouching, he reached out and touched the object. It was a shovel. He frowned, wondering why someone would leave it out here in the middle of nowhere.

Another twinge sends flares out from his side. He tried to ignore it as best he could while he moved closer to the generator. It had pipes running from its side. He took one and gave a small tug. It pulled his muscles down his side and he gripped the cut, waiting until the red spots in front of his sight disappeared. His curiosity now thoroughly raised, he followed the snaking line until it disappeared into the ground. He gave it a smaller tug this time. It seemed to be attached to something.

He sat down, and looked at the stars while he contemplated the problem before him. He had two choices. Try and get as far away as possible though he had no idea the distance he could manage with his injury. His other choice was to try and figure out why there was a generator out here in the middle of nowhere with pipes attached that disappeared into the ground.

He had started to feel warm again. A small shiver went through his body and he suppressed it as best he could.

Running was not going to get him far.

He looked again at the pipes before staring into the distance towards the road. It was far enough for the sweeper not to notice him unless he flashed light. Satisfied, he took the shovel, and mindful of his wound, slowly started to uncover the recently disturbed ground.

They had somehow managed to enter Sydney’s room without notice. Jarod stared at his mentor, lying comatose in the bed. The lines around the older man’s eyes were less pronounced, his features peaceful.

“You can do this any way you want, Jarod. I don’t care how.”

He didn’t acknowledge Lyle. His hands were sweaty, his legs felt rubbery. Everything inside him was turning numb. He had no idea if he could do this in the end. Willingly take a life, a life that had influenced his own for so many years.

“Jarod.”

Lyle’s voice was impatient, a slight edge towards the end. Jarod still couldn’t move. His mouth felt dry. “I….I,” he started, his gaze not leaving his mentor’s face. Lyle snorted and took his phone out.

“Any problems?”

Lyle watched Jarod, his blue orbs observing everything. “The generator’s still running.” Jarod turned, his own now fixed on the other man. Lyle smiled evilly. Jarod took a deep breath and when Lyle started to give the command to stop the machine, he shook his head.

“Wait. Don’t, Lyle.”

“I’m waiting, Jarod.”

He swallowed, wiping his hands on the jeans he had been given earlier by Lyle. On legs that didn’t feel his own, he stepped closer to the bed. He smiled down at Sydney, aware of Lyle’s unrelenting gaze, the phone loosely held in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Sydney,” he whispered and he bent down, leaving a small kiss on the older man’s forehead. Feeling the warmth of life on his lips, he slowly reached out and took a pillow from a pile that had been put on a chair beside the bed.

Tears started to roll down as he brought the pillow closer and with a last imploring look at Lyle, that brought nothing, he pressed it against the man’s face that had been like a father to him for most of his life.

Unknown area

“Visiting the sick?”

Lyle and Jarod both turned towards the voice as Parker closed the bathroom door behind her with audible thud. Jarod stared at her, his hands still pressing the pillow to Sydney’s face. He couldn’t believe that she had anticipated Lyle or the fact that she was in the room. Everything seemed distant, as if he was watching the scene unfold from afar, his body numb from the emotional rollercoaster he had had for the past week.

“Parker,” Lyle turned to her fully and smiled, “what are you doing here?”

She stepped towards Jarod and gently removed the pillow from his slack hands while keeping her gun expertly trained on Lyle.

“Stopping you from destroying any more lives.”

Lyle crossed his arms in front of him and tilted his head slightly. “You’re making a mistake.”

“I don’t think so,” his sister replied before releasing the safety on her gun.

She quickly stepped closer when she noticed the pretender swaying but was too late to stop him from collapsing beside Sydney’s bed. Warning Lyle not to try anything, she knelt next to the pretender, asking him what was wrong. Jarod shuddered before taking a deep, ragged breath. Pushing himself into a semi-sitting position, he glanced at Lyle.

“We…we have to find her,” his voice cracked as he uttered his next words, “Lyle….he’s buried her in the desert.”

She rose, keeping her concern for Jarod’s physical state bottled inside. Lyle was staring at her with clear blue eyes, a gaze she was familiar with.

“Where are they?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Lyle taunted, “but you have only about…” he glanced at his watch before mentally calculating, “…three hours left.”

His sister lashed out with her gun, connecting just below his right eye. A fresh cut appeared and Lyle reached up, wiping at the blood that had started to well up. Grimacing, he took out a handkerchief and pressed it against the cut.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Lyle sounded bored. “Now Jarod’s family will have to pay the price for your inability to follow simple directions.”

The menace was clear and Jarod used the linen to pull himself into a standing position.

“Parker, wait.”

The only reason that she didn’t shoot her brother was Jarod’s softly spoken words.

“If you let my family go…” he trailed off, wondering why he was once again trying to bargain with Lyle. It hasn’t worked previously.

“Jarod, don’t.”

Lyle grinned and stepped towards Jarod, ignoring his sister as she aimed her gun. “Take the gun from Parker and we’ll negotiate a release.”

Not giving Jarod time to process Lyle’s attempt at coercion, she lashed out with her gun and hit her brother savagely across the face. He crashed heavily sideways into the wall before he slid slowly down towards the floor.

“Reality check, Lyle. You’re not the one in control anymore.”

Jarod made a move to go towards Lyle and then looked hesitantly at her. She shook her head and he sagged back until he sat on Sydney’s bed, his whole demeanour one of defeat.

“You’ve just killed my mother, Parker.”

“I’ve never known you to give up so easily, Jarod.” Her voice was smooth and confident. “You’ve lived through thirty years of hell and he had you for five days.”

Silence followed briefly until Lyle let out a groan and shifted. “You really are a bitch, Parker,” Lyle said bitterly as he tenderly touched the emerging bruise on his jaw. “But you’re not the one in control, is she, Jarod?”

Jarod seemed to shrink into himself as he cradled his bandaged hand close to his chest. Lyle pushed himself upright against the wall, his gaze burning into Jarod’s form. “Have you ever seen a human being suffocate, Sis? It’s not an easy way to die.”

Jarod moaned and then locked eyes with her, pleading.

She broke the gaze deliberately and raised her gun, placing the muzzle directly to Lyle’s right shoulder.

“Where are they?”

Lyle shrugged. The gun pressed harder and she could see a thin line of sweat starting to form on her brother’s forehead.

“I won’t ask again.”

“If you kill me, Margaret dies.”

Jarod swallowed visibly and pushed himself into a trembling stance. Colour was slowly bleaching away from his features as the room started to spin. “Parker…” His voice faded as he reached out a hand.

She pulled the trigger.

“On my way. Should be there in thirty.”

“Just be careful.”

For a full five minutes he listened intently until the only sounds that filled his ears was the beating of his heart. Satisfied, he eyed the sky that had started to turn from cobalt blue to a lighter shade. It was nearing sunrise and he didn’t have a lot of time left.

Clearing the area with his hands, he managed to lift the lid.

“Good. Take two teams. I don’t care what you do to Lyle, but I want the pretender and Miss Parker back.”

“If they resist…”

“As long as they’re alive.”

“Understood, Sir.

Jarod nodded slowly. They both ignored Lyle, which was slumped against the wall, his hand pressed against a bleeding shoulder.

“Prognosis?”

Miss Parker tiredly pinched her nose. The gun in her other hand was getting heavy but she wasn’t about to let it go. Not with Lyle in the same room.

“The specialist said that with his age and the way he was struck…it’s not looking so good.”

Jarod sighed. Gently he touched Sydney’s forehead, wondering again how the Centre had managed to screw things up again. He somehow felt responsible for what Lyle had done to Sydney. To his mother. To J.

And if it hadn’t been for Parker, he would have…

He closed his eyes, trying to get the horror what he had almost done out of his mind. To purge it. He could feel the room start to tilt and had to swallow back his nausea. A soft hand on his arm brought him back and steadied him. He opened his eyes to look into hers. They were soft and filled with concern.

“You ok?”

He gave a half smile. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Her hand drifted whisper-soft down his arm until it met the bandage that started at his wrist and wrapped around his mutilated hand. He didn’t look down at where her fingers had stopped. He was concentrating all his attention on the features of her face, on the lines that had formed over the years, on her eyes and the way that her lips softened whenever she had allowed her compassion to emerge. He was seeing all of it and was startled when he noticed her eyes shining briefly with unshed tears before she turned his hand palm up.

“The Centre’s legacy,” he managed to say when he finally broke his gaze and looked down. Thumbless. Like Lyle, a mistake that he paid for.

“No. You survived, Jarod.” She looked up and met his eyes, holding him in her gaze, trying to make him understand. “You survived intact.”

He didn’t reply. He understood her sincerity and it almost broke something inside him. But he wouldn’t allow himself the luxury of that feeling until he knew that his mother and J were safe.

Until all of them was safe.

And the only way that would happen was if he destroyed the Centre.

“You ok?” he asked breathlessly, eying the dwindling night sky. She nodded and managed to get a foothold. He couldn’t prevent the sigh of relief when she let go of his hand and he had to stop himself mentally not to press it against his side.

Wiping the sweat away, he started upwards again. He found the place where his mother had slipped. Careful, he moved past and when he rolled onto the top of the small hill; his hand went immediately to his side and pinched.

“J?”

His mother’s whispered question brought him back and to their situation.

“I’m fine. We have to move.”

She started to question when he stopped her with an urging hand on her arm. He could see the white of her eyes when she heard the same thing he had.

The familiar beat of blades was starting to fill the air. Slowly sliding just over the crest, he looked east towards where the rising sun was just starting to show. The spec was a dark dot against the background and rapidly growing.

“They know where you are. You have to get out of there.”

Broots’ panicked voice still sounded when the door towards the hall burst open and Willie entered with five men behind them, guns tracking towards where she and Jarod stood besides Sydney’s bed.

When silence met his statements, Broots whispered, “M…miss Parker?”

“They’re already here.”

All the sweepers had silencers and in her experience, that had never bided well for the recipients. The hallway doors were closed, shutting them out again to the rest of the hospital, keeping the drama inside Sydney’s room.

Jarod was slammed against the wall and she heard his grunt of pain.

“He’s clean.”

“Where’s the Major?” It was Willie’s dark voice that sounded beside her. She started to turn and stopped when the gun pressure increased.

“A little out of your league, Willie. Marking territory in a bigger dog’s neighbourhood could get you killed.”

“Shut up, Parker.” A hand curled into her hair and yanked her head back. “Now where is he?”

She didn’t answer and was rewarded with another painful jerk.

“How did you find us?”

She could feel Willie smile and it sent warning shivers down her spine. This wasn’t good. Jarod was finally pushed into view, his face impassive but she could see the anger shimmering behind his eyes.

“I heard you got engaged, Miss Parker.”

Definitely not good.

“Charles, what’s wrong?”

He leaned slightly forward to peer at the instrumentation of the helicopter before looking at his wife. “The Centre has found Jarod and Miss Parker and they’re holed up in Sydney’s room.”

He rolled away from the squirming bodies and managed to avoid a staggering sweeper with a bullet hole that was spurting blood. Willie grunted and when he turned he heard a gunshot from the mass that was Miss Parker and the dark sweeper.

Before he could start back towards them, he glimpsed a sweeper lining up towards him. He twisted, bringing the centre of his body out of line of the barrel. Felt the passing wind of the bullet. A second later the sweeper jerked and then sagged before collapsing.

He turned back to Parker, his hand cradled close to his body was throbbing and a small patch of red had started to stain the white of the bandage. He heard his dad’s voice but ignored it. His attention was on her form, draped over Willie’s.

“Parker?”

It was a breathless whisper, more a thought then something said out loud. Then Willie’s hand relaxed and she pushed away from the man beneath her, her hair wild and out of place, the gun nestled in her right hand. A wet patch of blood stained the front of her shirt and then he was kneeling beside her, looking for injuries.

“I’m fine, Jarod. It’s his blood.”

His legs felt like jelly when he heard those words and he clutched her into his arms, crushing her against his body.

“I…thought…” he started brokenly. She shushed him into silence and then a new pair of hands touched his hair and he looked up into his mother’s face.

A smile lit up and he pulled her into their embrace.

“The FBI has raided a company called the Centre today and had found numerous violations…”

Jarod turned down the volume and looked at Sydney’s comatose state. “We’re finally safe, Sydney. They’ve found Raines’ document and what he and the Centre had done to Kyle and the rest. The Triumvirate have been put on the watch list and if they ever put foot in this country, they will be apprehended.”

Sydney didn’t respond. Jarod leaned closer. The words he was going to say was for Sydney’s ears alone and long overdue.

“I forgive you, Sydney.”

For a brief moment after that a ghost of a smile tucked at Sydney’s lips. Then he sighed and as tears started to drip down Jarod’s cheeks, he slipped away.

He heard the door open behind him and then the Miss Parker’s arms surrounded him. He turned and buried his face in her chest and held tight as he grieved. Later, when all was calm again, did she say, “You’re Sydney’s legacy.”

Jarod smiled sadly and looked directly at her. He had his family. The Centre was gone. And he had Sydney’s training and caring and love that had kept him sane for thirty years inside that hell.

Tracing the soft lines of her face, he leaned in and gave a soft kiss. “Thank you.”

She frowned briefly. “For what?”

“For always having been my friend. You kept my soul intact.”

“And you did mine.”

He had nothing more to say and so he held her to him, feeling peace enfold them both. He was finally free of the Centre’s evil. And deep inside he knew that’s what Sydney had always wanted.

For him to be free.